


give me your heart (and i'll give you my love)

by celestexists



Category: Shenanigans (Original Universe)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Eggplant Era, Disney References, Disney taken seriously, Getting Together, M/M, Moments of truth, Mutual Pining, OT3, POV Multiple, Pining, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M, don't underestimate Kate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestexists/pseuds/celestexists
Summary: “Besides,” Elliot continues blithely. “What better way to celebrate our first anniversary as roommates than to see firsthand how Disney is a soulless corporate machine perpetuating a capitalist dystopia hellscape in disguise of happily ever afters? It’ll be the most ironic shenanigan there ever was.”“Does that mean we’re not doing the rides?” Nicholas wants to know, his chin propped up on his hand.“So you want us to, how did you put it, ‘celebrate our first anniversary as roommates’ by proving how Disney isnotthe happiest place on earth,” Jonah muses, before draining his wine glass. “This should be interesting.”





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Introducing: Shenanigans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757003) by [Aja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aja/pseuds/Aja), [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 



> Deepest thanks to Aja and EGT for creating such a wonderful universe with such wonderful characters, and for letting us fans play with them. Many thanks to Aja for opening the door, so to speak, to multi-platform desperation about this fandom and about Jonah, in particular.
> 
> I’m taking a few lines from May’s notes and say: To the uninitiated, this is a fic set in the Shenanigansverse, which you can immerse yourself in starting with [this primer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757003), and then either one of the two main storylines, [Hays Code Love Scene](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763933/chapters/26518512) or [Alter Ego](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763891/chapters/26518410). If you’re already familiar, this fic is set the summer before senior year college, and the Eggplant trio have been roommates for a year. 
> 
> Last but not least: special thanks to May, my number one enabler/supporter and the best bff in the universe. Thank you for beta-reading and Elliot-checking this monstrosity.
> 
> Title is from “Come With Me” by Echosmith. All mistakes are my own.

_“I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”_

_― Pride and Prejudice_

Caroline is casually sipping a Summer In Sao Paulo—because it was the perfect school-ender and summer cocktail all in one—while surreptitiously looking at Jane’s face as the song starts playing around the patio.

It’s a busy night in Deep Ellum, all the bedraggled college students coming out to play after their hell week of exams, while the yuppies have their usual after-hours drinks inside the bar. And since the night is growing later, the crowd is also getting more boisterous. Normally Caroline would tune out the noise, but she likes the buzzing background and excited energy in the atmosphere. It matches her current mood.

Jane pauses mid-sip, the rim of her glass pressed against her lip. And it makes Caroline itch for her camera: Jane’s hair gently blowing in the late spring breeze, her white off-shoulder top and ever-present gin fizz contrasting sharply against the patio’s red paneled walls. But most of all, Jane’s exasperated and fond expression, from the lift of her brow to the quirk of her lips.

“ _La vie en rose_. In French,” Jane notes, resuming drinking. “This is you, isn’t it, Elliot.”

Elliot, who is sitting beside Evan and Anna across the table, just smiles sharply and, as a reply, starts crooning the lyrics in perfect French. 

Jane turns to her. “I don’t even know why I’m asking, but just to complete this little scene you both set up—you conspired with him, didn’t you, Caro?”

Caroline grins and sings along too, also in perfect French, bumping her shoulder against Jane until Jane rolls her eyes and just takes another sip of her drink, a faint blush blooming on her cheeks.

“Aww,” Anna coos, leaning her head against Evan’s shoulder. Evan looks up bemusedly from his buffalo wings. “How _romantic._ ”

“What’s romantic?” Evan asks.

“Caroline and Jane, _obviously_ ,” Anna answers.

“To Carojane,” Blake declares, raising his deviled egg for a toast. 

Caroline raises her own deviled egg and bumps it against Blake’s before taking a victorious bite. 

It had taken a while for Elliot to get used to the idea of Caroline and Jane in a romantic relationship, but Nicholas and Jonah were somehow able to talk some sense into him. Then after a few weeks of moping and sulking, Elliot had approached the both of them and said, very solemnly, that he was happy they were happy, and that he’s glad two of his dearest friends have found this happiness together.

And in typical Elliot fashion, he immediately asked if he could plan an event to celebrate their “happy together-ness”, which, unsurprisingly, Jane immediately nixed because a.) it was hell week, b.) her relationship wasn’t a shenanigan, and c.) she hated overt displays. Elliot only stopped after a Look from Jane.

And Caroline was perfectly fine with either, to celebrate or not, but she can’t help be pleased that Elliot found a middle ground where they’re all happy.

Very conveniently after Caroline’s last day of exam, Elliot had dropped by her dorm room and said, without preamble, “We should go out to Deep Ellum later this week to celebrate our freedom from the academic rigors of standard testing.”

“Okay, what are you up to?” Caroline had asked, letting Elliot in her room. Caroline watched in amusement as Elliot threw himself dramatically on her chair, carefully trying not to disturb the sheets of paper scattered on her desk.

Jane, who is very particular with her whites and neutrals, is always riveted with the splashes of colors inside her room: from the wobbly calligraphy written on tons and tons of Tomoe River sheets; the small canvases filled with abstract paintings propped along the walls; to the photographs printed and pinned on her corkboards.

“It’s the perfect way to end the year,” Elliot entreated, fiddling with her pens and brushes on the table. “We’ll gripe about the complete inanity of these exams in the soft spring breeze at Deep Ellum’s patio. Blake can order deviled eggs for the two of you while you choose an appropriate drink for the evening, Evan and Anna can stuff their faces with the overrated mains in the menu, and I’ll get Jane her usual gin fizz with real egg whites.”

“And?” Caroline prompted.

Elliot gave her a wicked smile. “And then we play a romantic love song as the sun sets, providing a poignant and unforgettable moment for you and Jane as we remember that day with all fondness.”

“Elliot _._ ”

“Hear me out!” Elliot puts his hands out, his grin transforming into a full fledged laugh, and Caroline can’t help but feel a tendril of fondness for him. “It’s not going to be a big deal. It will be an intimate gathering, half the gang won’t be available—Hazel’s already preparing for her final creative project next year, Jonah’s still doing rehearsals at the Paramount, and Nicholas is busy submitting applications for summer classes.”

“You say half, and I count three,” Caroline said wryly. Then she paused. “So Jonah and Nicholas won’t be coming to this shenanigan?”

Elliot shot up from the chair and waved a hand as if to shoo away her question. “This isn’t a _shenanigan_ , it’s a _celebration_ ,” he emphasized.

“Okay, but no flash mobs, no ‘impromptu’ performances by complete strangers, and for the love of Jane, _no acapella_ ,” Caroline said firmly.

“ _Fine_ ,” Elliot said. “I suppose you want to choose the song, too?”

“Yes, thank you,” Caroline beamed.

At Blake’s proclamation, though, Elliot stops singing smugly and frowns. “Or Janeline,” he points out.

Anna purses her lips thoughtfully. “Doesn’t that kind of sound like a clothing brand, though?”

“If it were, it would be an emerging brand that is both minimalist and chic,” Elliot insists. “It would have luxurious textured fabrics and different shades of white for each season. The shade eggshell is perfect for the spring collection, isn’t it, Jane?”

“You’ve thought a lot about this non-existent clothing brand,” Jane says with amusement.

Elliot gives her a wounded look. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Jane takes another sip of her drink. “Vanilla, on the other hand, is perfect for fall,” she finally answers, in all seriousness. “And I’d design collections themed entirely around different fabrics. Like cashmere wool.”

And now Caroline wants to capture this moment, too: the look of understanding and disguised affection between Jane and Elliot, their respective drinks held up loftily in their hands.

“I still think Carojane is better,” Anna says after a moment. “It flows more smoothly on the tongue.”

This triggers another long tirade from Elliot on the supremacy of Janeline as a portmanteau. Evan doesn’t even bother looking up this time, he’s too delighted by his buffalo wings. Meanwhile, Blake’s finishing all the deviled eggs with a deeply disturbed expression. Caroline quickly takes one last egg for herself and does her best to avoid Blake’s eyes in case he decides to share whatever put that look in his eyes.

Caroline holds still as Jane leans closer to her. “Thanks for reining him in,” Jane murmurs.

Caroline shakes her head. “Apart from the song choice, it was entirely his idea.”

Jane hums and leans back against her seat. “Maybe not _entirely_ his idea,” she says thoughtfully.

“I mean, look at _Evanna_ , it’s a smooth transition and combination of both our names,” Anna tells Elliot.

Elliot looks horrified by this. “Anna, you can’t make _your own portmanteau_ ,” Elliot says, his voice rising. “Your shippers have to come up with it!”

“First of all, we have to have shippers. And I’m the number one shipper of my own ship.” Anna leans back smugly. “Second, would _you_ let someone else choose the aesthetic look and sound of your ship name if it were you?” 

“Both his ship names would sound nice, though, so I think Elliot is safe either way,” Kate comments from where she’s sitting next to Caroline, and Caroline almost jumps in her seat because she completely forgot Kate was there. 

Kate only started hanging out with them during the latter part of this year, after Hazel brought her along to one of their weekly-monthly parties at Blake’s house. Most of them had been wary with how she’d fit in, since their friend group has been pretty tight knit since they were freshmen. But when Blake had asked her to find a spot to spin her casing of spun silk for her cocoon, for they were all crawling caterpillars waiting to transform, she’d just told Blake that she needed to spin her web on a forked branch, to symbolize the crossroads waiting for her when she burst free from her silk shell. Then she added that she’d also need cocoonase enzymes disguised as a martini to help her transcend into a butterfly. 

Everyone had welcomed her with open arms, after that.

“You mean Janeline?” Elliot says hopefully, clearly looking for an ally.

Kate looks at him with puzzlement. “I meant Jonellas or Nichellah,” she says blithely while taking a bite of her truffle fries. 

It’d be hilarious how everyone suddenly freezes, if they weren’t all holding their breath. Caroline takes a fortifying drink and, in the corner of her eye, sees Jane doing the same.

“What?” Elliot asks confusedly.

“What?” Kate asks, equally confusedly.

Caroline watches with fascination as Elliot drains his drink before taking a deep breath. “That’s—none of us are together, don’t be ridiculous, Kate, as if that even works in real life,” he says scornfully. “ _Obviously_ we are just all good friends who happen to be great roommates. Even if Jonah is annoyingly pretentious and conceited and Nicholas lets him get away with anything,” Elliot adds sourly.

The hilarity of that statement has Caroline coughing in her drink until Jane elbows her at the side.

“Right,” Kate says slowly. “Good friends who happen to be great roommates who also go to the other’s theatre retreat.”

“They were languishing before Nicholas and I came to give them a proper shenanigans vis a vis Charades: Musicals Edition,” Elliot says. “Besides, Jonah kept insisting there’s no such thing as a deconstructed stir fry. Nicholas and I proved it otherwise that very day.”

“So is the ‘deconstructed stir fry’—and I don’t even know what that means—what you and Jonah served to Nicholas’ study group during midterms?” Kate asks.

“It was fish tacos,” Elliot corrects icily. “And—what, should we have left them to _starve_? It would have been rude if Jonah and I just went to our rooms without even giving them the slightest bit of sustenance while they studied how to literally save lives!”

Caroline bites into her deviled egg slowly, watching the exchange between Kate and Elliot like it was a tennis match. She wants to elbow Kate to signal to her that it was time to stop, Elliot was clearly reaching his breaking point, if his overwrought diction was anything to go by. But Elliot might see the movement and suddenly direct his hysterical focus on her.

“What about when you insisted face-timing Jonah and Nicholas during your two-day social media marketing conference?” Kate asks.

“Ian Purrtis needs to see my face _at least once a day_!” Elliot says shrilly. He narrows his eyes at Kate, “And how do you even know these things, Kate?”

Kate opens her mouth to answer, but Jane saves the day.

“Because you’ve been telling us the thousand and one ways you three are such ‘good friends who happen to be great roommates’ and how you deserve a quick getaway before summer classes, remember?” Jane says, boredly staring at the bottom of her empty glass.

Elliot looks mollified the slightest bit. “Yes,” he answers primly, still glaring at Kate, who is now frowning concernedly at Blake. “Yes, I did.”

Jane’s lips quirk. “Thought of a place for that getaway yet?”

And Caroline internally sighs in relief when Elliot transfers his glare from Kate to Jane. “No,” he sulks. “Not yet. _But I have a list._ ”

“Are your deviled eggs all right, Blake?” Kate asks abruptly.

Blake looks up from staring at said eggs. “I was just wondering what makes these eggs _deviled_ that they’d be named after an adjective that means to be subjugated by a popular entity of evil. Were these eggs subjugated by the devil?”

“I think deviled means to cook food in spicy condiments,” Kate answers without batting an eyelash.

“Or it could be a metaphor for the devil’s subjugation,” Anna supplies helpfully.

Blake looks even more troubled by this.

“Just call it stuffed eggs if it’s causing you so much existential angst,” Evan says, now looking as troubled as Blake, his gaze directed at his empty plate.

Kate brightens. “Or dressed eggs!”

Elliot was side-eyeing Blake indiscriminately, but now he’s staring at everyone with a half-horrified, half-disdainful look. Caroline hides a smile in her glass.

Jane gets up smoothly. “I need a cigarette,” she says and deftly moves out the table. Elliot doesn’t even look up, he’s dived into the deviled eggs debate now, loudly defending the aesthetics of deviled eggs, and how it was not only simplistic but also unappetizing to call it either _stuffed_ or _dressed_.

“I’ll come with you,” Caroline says casually, ignoring Jane’s amused look. She may not admit it, but Jane only announces she needs a smoke break when she wants to take that smoke break with _somebody._ Usually that is Nicholas. But since Nicholas isn’t here, Caroline is happy to substitute.

She takes the stick Jane offers her and suppresses a laugh when Jane gives the determined waiter walking towards them a speaking look. When the waiter hastily turns away, Jane blows a smoke ring in his direction.

Caroline leans forward as Jane lights their cigarettes, and she’s pleased to see Jane using the white Gackt-designed lighter she gave a few weeks ago. Caroline leans back against the wall and waits. 

“So, Jonellas,” Jane finally says.

Caroline takes a slow drag. She appreciates how the smoke wafting between them feels like a veil separating them for everyone else. “Or Nichellah,” she points out.

Jane waves an elegant hand with her cigarette, a thin trail of smoke following her. “Whatever it is Elliot’s in the middle of,” she sighs.

Caroline thinks about the conversations she’s had with Nicholas, and the things she’s heard thirdhand from Hazel’s conversations with Jonah. “I think they’ll work it out,” Caroline finally says. 

Jane makes a soft sound before exhaling, soft clouds surrounding her. And Caroline swears she’s going to convince Jane to sit for her for a teeny-tiny photo shoot while smoking, because Caroline loves the way the smoke clings to her lips and wrap around her slim wrist, the way her skin looks luminous against the gray smoke. 

And Caroline can’t wait for when they curl up in bed later after they’ve both showered and changed into pajamas, because then Jane’s skin will smell like clean soap with lingering traces of smoke.

Jane makes another sound, this time in fond exasperation. Caroline comes back to herself, realizing that Jane is done with her cigarette and is staring at her with soft eyes. “C’mon, Caro, time to head back into the fray,” Jane says, taking Caroline’s hand.

When they get back to their table, their friends are suspiciously quiet. Elliot beams at them and raises his glass, his drink already refilled. “Let’s give a toast to Janeline-slash-Carojane for finding a unique bit of happiness with each other, and showing us how everyday words can be love songs,” Elliot says. 

Caroline pauses from admiring how Elliot had also brought her and Jane new drinks and stares up at him. But then Elliot shakes himself and gives them all that patented scheming grin. “Hopefully those rose-tinted glasses will not be an impediment to both your aesthetics,” he continues. “To Caroline and Jane.” 

“Caroline and Jane!” Everyone else echoes.

“To aesthetically pleasing rose-tinted glasses,” Caroline beams at Jane, who smiles back instantly, like she can’t help it.

“Thanks, guys,” Jane says and raises her gin fizz. “To summer,” she toasts.

At that, everyone whoops and clinks their glasses together. 

They talk about their summer plans and how they should plan a weekly-monthly party at Blake’s before they all leave. Then as the night grows later, their friends say their goodbyes, until only Jane, Caroline, and Elliot are left. Elliot waits until Blake disappears out of sight before leaning forward on the table to say, “I know where we’re going for our summer-shenanigans.”

Caroline finds herself leaning forward, too, because the way Elliot is grinning means he’s planning something entirely absurd and fun for the three of them at the Eggplant.

Jane takes her lighter and another cigarette out before saying, “Do you.”

“It goes like this,” Elliot begins.

Jane exhales the smoke deeply. “We’re listening.”

Then Elliot launches into explaining in detail his plan for the Summer-Shenanigans Getaway.

After a few days, Elliot saunters into the Eggplant, rubs his forehead against Ian Purrtis' nose in greeting, then goes straight into the kitchen. The smell of soy sauce and honey greets him as he sits down on the counter top, waiting while Nicholas feeds Jonah a spoonful. 

“What do you think?” Nicholas asks.

Jonah chews thoughtfully, as if he’s actually thinking about what to answer. “It’s good.”

Elliot scoffs, swinging his legs. “Please, he’s biased, it’s his recipe,” Elliot says. “Let me taste.”

Nicholas dutifully turns to him and gives him a new spoonful. “It needs more paprika,” Elliot says immediately, after swallowing.

Nicholas and Jonah roll their eyes simultaneously before turning back to the pot. “You always say that, even though we literally never use paprika,” Nicholas points out. “I’d believe you more if you say, ‘it needs a pinch of salt’ or maybe ‘a bit more black pepper.’”

“Paprika adds a kick, Nicholas,” Elliot says confidently. “It adds _flavor_.”

Nicholas gives him an amused look. “Says the person who’s never successfully cooked something without burning anything,” Nicholas says.

Elliot pouts. “Just because you stopped burning Eggos, you’ve gone all high and mighty on me.”

“Okay, salt and pepper,” Jonah drawls, and Elliot scowls. “Please enjoy this bowl of perfectly seasoned stir fry.” 

They each take a bowl before heading straight to the living room. They had a small table in the dining room, but they only ate there when they needed to study while eating. And Elliot is very proud of the living room sofa because he fought a long, hard battle getting it. 

Because of how vividly purple the walls were—despite how many times Nicholas insists that it’s _mauve_ —they couldn’t agree on the color scheme for the living room interiors. Jonah, being the gauche showboat he is, wanted to get a dark teal couch with a plush magenta rug. Elliot immediately shot that down, of course. First of all, teal and purple living rooms only worked if you were filming a second-rate erotica B movie. Second, if Jonah wanted a plush rug just to please his hedonistic senses, he better keep it in his room.

Then there was Nicholas, who kept insisting to buy new furniture from places like, god forbid, IKEA. And even Jonah, who usually tried to undermine Elliot just on principle, had convinced Nicholas that no, they cannot get the gingerbread-colored couch with red and orange patchworks, because it did not match their living room at all.

Elliot had carefully taken all of this into account, so when he presented his find to his two disgruntled roommates—a worn, greige three-seater overstuffed couch formerly owned by a trusted classmate who was also his former assistant director, Soo-jin—he was pleased when they immediately capitulated into getting it.

Elliot settles in the middle, curling his ankles when Ian Purrtis circles his legs. Nicholas takes one of the red throw pillows—which, Elliot is always annoyed to see because 1.) Jonah purchased it, 2.) even though it clashed with their couch, and 3.) Nicholas really loved it—and fluffs it up before leaning back and eating. Meanwhile, Jonah is carefully setting down his wineglass on the coffee table, because he can’t have soda with stir fry like a normal college student.

They watch trashy reality TV shows for a bit while eating, which Elliot secretly enjoys watching, but pretends to hate because Nicholas seems to _genuinely_ like it, and Elliot has to show him that you can’t genuinely like trashy reality TV shows, it’s a paradox. 

After they finish their stir fry, Elliot dumps their dirty bowls and utensils into the dishwater, before going back to the couch and wrapping the sea foam green afghan around himself. He loves the throw, and he’s made an unofficial claim to it, because it’s a sharp contrast that somehow belongs in their living room. And also it’s warm and soft, and shows that Nicholas can have good taste in his purchases sometimes.

“It’s a shame that we have nothing planned for the summer intersession, right?” Elliot asks casually.

“Don’t we?” Jonah murmurs, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together.

Elliot ignores him. “Which is why,” he says grandly, pulling the tickets out of his sleeve. “I bought this!”

“Oh my god,” Nicholas lets out a helpless little laugh, and it makes Elliot preen because he always loves making his best friend laugh. “Did you just... Did you have that up your sleeve the entire time?”

“A shenanigan up his sleeve,” Jonah clarifies. 

“Thank you, as always, for stating the obvious, Jonah,” Elliot rolls his eyes.

Jonah just raises his glass at Elliot before drinking.

Elliot gets up from the sofa and twirls the afghan around his shoulders. “We’re going to Disney World!” He announces, fanning out the tickets in his hand.

His roommates stare at him blankly. Ian Purrtis glares at Elliot disdainfully from where he’s curled up on Jonah’s lap.

“We are?” Nicholas finally says.

“Elliot,” Jonah sighs, absentmindedly scritching Ian Purrtis at the base of his ears until their cat is purring. “What if we were busy? You didn’t even ask us if we’re free.”

“Because I’m pretty sure there’s nothing on your calendars,” Elliot says, pretending to look at his cuticles. Honestly, why does Jonah have to play so coy? 

Jonah stills and narrows his eyes at Elliot. “And pray tell, how did you get by that very specific information?” 

“Intuition?” Elliot says innocently, barely restraining himself from saying, _I can’t believe you write actual plans_ _on your planner_ with a fountain pen. And it’s not like Jonah’s planner was hidden or anything. It was lying innocuously on Jonah’s table, so what if Elliot snuck in a little peek? Nicholas’ schedule, on the other hand, was easier to check; Elliot just had to borrow his phone and check his calendar if he had anything scheduled for next week.

“Besides,” Elliot continues blithely, ignoring Jonah’s narrow-eyed gaze. “What better way to celebrate our first anniversary as roommates than to see firsthand how Disney is a soulless corporate machine perpetuating a capitalist dystopia hellscape in disguise of happily ever afters? It’ll be the most ironic shenanigan there ever was.”

“Does that mean we’re not doing the rides?” Nicholas wants to know, his chin propped up on his hand. And Elliot can’t help but grin back at Nicholas.

“So you want us to, how did you put it, ‘celebrate our first anniversary as roommates’ by proving how Disney is _not_ the happiest place on earth,” Jonah muses, before draining his wine glass. When Jonah moves to uncross his legs, Ian Purrtis slinks away with a sulky _mrow_ before demanding Nicholas’ attention. “This should be interesting.”

“It will be, actually,” Elliot says, doing his best to address Jonah without having to look at him. “And then you’ll be amongst other garishly dressed caricatures who sing about their charming charmed lives while bluebirds help them bake a pie.”

“Oh, but can you bake a pie?” Nicholas asks Jonah in all seriousness.

Jonah grins back. “All I need is a recipe, and a pretty bluebird or two to help me,” he responds jauntily, almost sing-song. Nicholas laughs.

“And and,” Elliot says, fanning the tickets in their faces. “Nicholas, you’ll have something to talk about with your patients at the childcare center. In fact, it might even give you a closer look into a young child’s mind: how Disney inserts subliminal messaging into their songs and films.”

Nicholas rubs Ian Purrtis’ chin until he’s purring in contentment. “I’m pretty sure that’s not something I can talk about with kids,” he says easily.

“Regardless, you can prove that hypothesis by coming to this trip,” Elliot says, waving his hand. “Besides, everything’s set—the three-day Disney passes, the flight tickets, the AirBnb, the whole works.”

“Wait,” Nicholas says, his voice odd. “You already bought everything?”

Elliot shrugs. “You know I get paid a lot for all those social media marketing gigs.” And also he had help from his dad’s credit card.

Jonah and Nicholas exchange a look, and Elliot hates how he can’t understand what they’re wordlessly saying. 

“Elliot,” Jonah says softly. “We could have split the costs between the three of us. We could have talked about it beforehand.”

Elliot suddenly feels ridiculous, holding papers like a prop in one hand, while wearing a stupid afghan around his shoulders, and he hates how Jonah can make him feel that way with a few choice words.

What is he supposed to say to that anyway? It’s so trite to say, _I didn’t want there to be a chance for you to say no,_ and it seems too glib if he responds with, _well, it’s always better to ask for forgiveness than permission._

And so Elliot swallows all of that nonsense and just twirls his makeshift cape again. “All we have to talk about is how you guys will say yes to three days of basking in the warmth of Orlando and enjoying one of the most laidback destinations in the world home to unforgettable theme parks we surely can’t miss.”

“You read that from a travel site, didn’t you?” Nicholas says, and Elliot is reassured of how Nicholas sounds so affectionate and fondly exasperated. Nicholas is the best friend.

“Come, my friends, we must be bold and daring,” Elliot says grandly, doing his best Lumiere impression, and extends the tickets to Nicholas and Jonah.

“Indeed we must,” Jonah murmurs, taking the ticket from Elliot, his fingers briefly brushing against Elliot’s. 

Elliot leans back, pleased that his planned getaway is working out so far. To celebrate his triumph, he saunters out of the room with the sea foam green afghan swirling behind him as his roommates cheer him on.

Elliot is sitting cross-legged on his bed, Ian Purrtis curled up on his lap, while he looks through pinterest and tumblr. Orlando is worlds away from Boston, and he needs to come up with the perfect wardrobe, the perfect aesthetic that speaks wealths of irony, for Disney World.

He pauses from typing _ecru color palettes for clothes_ (god forbid he puts _muted summer wear_ because apparently “muted” and “summer” don’t mean the same thing; he found more pegs for Jonah than for himself) when a desktop notification pops up.

_New mail from Arnold Wurtzenhauer_

_Feedback on your directing proposal_

“Hey, Elliot?” Nicholas knocks on his door and leans against the door frame.

Elliot slams the lid of his laptop shut. “Yes! Nicholas, what’s up?” Ian Purrtis yowls in complaint from the sudden movements before moving to the foot of the bed. 

Nicholas raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Elliot widens his eyes. “What was what?” He asks while moving his laptop to the side.

“Don’t give me that,” he says good-naturedly and sits down beside Ian Purrtis at the edge of the bed. “I hope that panicked look wasn’t Disney-related.”

“I don’t have a panicked look,” Elliot says indignantly, poking Nicholas’ hip with a socked toe. “And was there something you needed? Or did you just want to talk about my alleged expressions?”

“You _do_ have expressions for everything,” Nicholas insists laughingly, holding Elliot’s ankle still. “If you don’t believe me, ask Jonah.”

“As if. He’d probably just make things up like, ‘Elliot has a cunning twinkle in his eye’ or ‘Oh, yes, Nicholas, Elliot unquestionably has a _scheming_ look, you can see from the way he raises his brow, etcetera’ just to please you.” 

“That was disturbingly descriptive,” Nicholas notes. “But also we’re getting off track.”

Elliot stretches his other foot so he can continue poking Nicholas’ hip. “You were the one who brought it up.”

“Anyway,” Nicholas stresses. “I was going to ask if you’re sure about this. About the trip.”

Elliot stops poking. “Of course,” Elliot says, blinking. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nicholas hesitates. “Just making sure,” he finally says.

Elliot sits up straighter, his heart pounding heavily for some reason. “Is it… do you want to... I don’t know, maybe just go with Jonah?”

“Elliot, we wouldn’t even be _going_ to Disney if it weren’t for you,” Nicholas says. “And what would I do in Disney with Jonah?”

“I don’t know!” Elliot says, tugging the afghan tighter around his shoulder. “I just thought...”

They both fall silent, Elliot lost for words and Nicholas waiting for him to respond. And it’s only at that moment Elliot realizes that Nicholas has been brushing his thumb against the skin above his ankle, where his sock ends. He holds his breath when Nicholas stops.

“Well,” Nicholas says softly, removing his hand completely from Elliot’s leg, and Elliot wraps his arms around his knees before Nicholas sees the goosebumps on his skin. “I’m pretty excited. And I know Jonah is too.”

“Is he?” Elliot asks, unable to help himself.

Nicholas smiles. “Yes,” he says firmly. “And you’d know that, if you bothered to talk to him instead of making grand exits.”

“You can’t wear flannel to Orlando,” Elliot blurts.

“Flannel’s too hot to wear in Florida,” Nicholas says reasonably, as if that were the only reason one should _not_ wear flannel. “I was thinking of my meme shirts.”

“Oh, god,” Elliot says, horrified. “You mean the ones Jane and I give you every Christmas? The _gag shirts_?”

“And maybe that Boston hat,” Nicholas continues cheerfully. “You know, the one we bought near Quincy Market last year.”

“The bucket hat,” Elliot says flatly. “The one with the humongous red B on the front. We bought that as a _lark_. It was supposed to be _ironic._ ”

“Orlando’s gonna be 90-plus degrees. You need to protect your skin from the UV rays of the sun, Elliot,” Nicholas says in his doctor-voice, but Elliot can see the laughter lighting up in Nicholas’ eyes.

“You are _not_ bringing that blue-red monstrosity,” Elliot tells him firmly. When Nicholas opens his mouth, Elliot adds, “I’ll get you a better one.”

Nicholas rolls his eyes and gets up. “Not what I was angling for, but sure,” he says.

Elliot frowns. “What were you angling for?”

Nicholas smiles again, before looking down and smoothing the sheets. “For you to lose the panicked look,” he says. “Good night, Elliot.”

Elliot stares after Nicholas’ back before scooping Ian Purrtis up in his arms. 

“This is going to be the best shenanigan yet, Ian Purrtis,” Elliot tells him solemnly. “I just _feel_ it.”

Ian Purrtis just licks his paw doubtfully and lets Elliot cuddle him.


	2. Day 1: Nicholas

“I can’t believe you brought a _wheeled trolley garment bag and a carry-on,_ ” Elliot tells Jonah for the 12th time—Nicholas has been keeping count—while they haul out their bags from the trunk. “Are you planning to wear suits to Disney?”

“How about you tell us what’s inside _your_ large-sized luggage?” Jonah asks easily as he pays their Lyft driver. “You did say we were just staying for three days, right?”

“I needed storage space. I didn’t want my trousers to be wrinkled,” Elliot mutters, tapping on his phone. Nicholas stares at the flush staining Elliot’s cheeks until Elliot pulls his big sunglasses atop his tousled hair and puts it on. “I gotta meet the host at the door. Meet me there.”

Nicholas takes Elliot’s luggage and shoulders his backpack, which was the only bag he brought since they were only staying _three days_ and apparently he’s the only one who knows how to pack light. He turns to Jonah to tell them they should go follow Elliot, only to find Jonah staring at Elliot’s retreating back.

Then Jonah switches his gaze to Nicholas, and the intensity in Jonah’s eyes makes Nicholas wish Jonah would also just wear the sunglasses pushed back in his hair. He doesn’t know how Jonah manages to look like he came off the runway with a plain black shirt and denims, but that’s just part Jonah’s charm.

“That’s twelve now,” Nicholas says casually.

Jonah chuckles and starts rolling his luggage. “I think he’s worried I might outdo him in the clothes department,” Jonah says dryly. “But I just packed extra casual clothes in case we end up doing the rides. How much are you willing to bet we’ll end up riding Splash Mountain?”

“None. I brought extra shirts for him,” Nicholas admits. Then adds, a little more delightedly, “He’s going to have to wear meme shirts.”

Jonah laughs at that, and Nicholas smiles when he sees Jonah’s left dimple pop out. 

The host, Leah, is waiting for them at the front door with Elliot. “And these are your… partners?” Leah asks Elliot, eyeing Nicholas and Jonah uncertainly.

Nicholas looks sharply at Elliot, who’s already tugging his suitcase from Nicholas. “Yes, we live together,” Elliot answers absently.

Leah transfers her gaze from Nicholas, to Jonah, and back again to Elliot. “And you’re all… just going to stay in the house for three days?”

Jonah inserts himself smoothly between Nicholas and Elliot and swings one arm around each of their shoulders. “We’re actually college roommates! We’re here to see Disney before our summer classes start,” Jonah says, turning up his mega-wattage smile, the non-dimple one. 

Elliot stares up at Jonah oddly before shuffling away from him. “That’s what I said!”

Leah visibly relaxes and smiles at them widely. “Oh, have fun then!” She tells them. “Let me know if you need anything!”

Nicholas immediately beelines for the kitchen. He sighs in relief when he sees that the coffeemaker is relatively simple and easy to use. He takes his ziplocked packed roast out of his backpack and starts brewing coffee.

“Okay, so there’s two bedrooms in the house,” Elliot starts. Then he halts when he sees Nicholas fixing the coffeemaker. “Did you seriously bring the organic Nicaraguan roast?”

“I woke up at four in the morning and I just got off a three-hour flight,” Nicholas says mildly. “And the day hasn’t even started yet.”

Jonah leans against the counter top and looks at his watch. “It’s still pretty early, we have time for a power nap, if you want,” he says to Nicholas.

“No, no, we _do not_ have time for power naps!” Elliot says, waving his hands around. “We’re here to drop our bags and freshen up before going to Magic Kingdom.”

“It’s fine,” Nicholas says, pouring coffee in three mugs. “Elliot saying we need to go to Magic Kingdom is all the energy boost I need.”

Jonah walks forward to take the coffee, which he takes black like Nicholas. “A combination of words I thought I’d never hear indeed,” Jonah says, raising his mug as if to toast, while ignoring how Elliot is glaring at him.

Nicholas smiles. “Coffee, Elliot?” He offers.

“I’m fine,” Elliot pouts, eyeing the mug Nicholas starts fixing with three teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of cream.

Nicholas pushes that cup to the side and takes a sip from the third mug. “You were saying about the bedrooms?” he prompts.

“The master bedroom has a king-sized bed, and then the other bedroom has two singles,” Elliot says, still looking at the cup Nicholas had set aside.

Nicholas holds his mug in both hands, relishing the heat coming off the ceramic. Sometimes he thinks even just the aroma of coffee can give him the extra jolt he needs, especially on sleepless exam nights. He takes another sip, and closes his eyes, just appreciating the taste. 

“I can take the master’s, if that makes it easier,” Jonah offers.

Nicholas opens his eyes, and almost drops his coffee when he sees Jonah staring at him again with that intense gaze. 

“Easier on your humongous portable walk-in closet you mean?” Elliot wrinkles his nose. “You _would_ want the bigger room.”

Jonah tilts his head at Elliot and smiles at him wryly. “I can easily sleep with Nicholas, if that’s what you prefer, Elliot,” he says smoothly.

Nicholas chokes on his coffee while Elliot turns red as a tomato. “Can you please stop with the innuendos and be serious for a minute?” Elliot snaps.

Jonah shrugs. “What I’m trying to say is I’m good with either arrangement.”

“Oh, right, as long as the option doesn’t include you rooming with me, is that it?” 

Nicholas sees the way Jonah stills, and how he hides it by raising his mug to his face. “I wasn’t aware that was an option,” Jonah says carefully.

“Whatever,” Elliot huffs and finally grabs the coffee Nicholas left for him. “You might as well get the master’s since you brought your entire room with you.”

Then he stomps off into the second bedroom.

The thing about Elliot and the things he wants, Nicholas thinks, is that it’s always better to leave it to the side until Elliot’s ready to claim it. “Jonah,” Nicholas starts.

Jonah is smiling again, but this time there’s a twist to his lips. “It’s all right, Nicholas,” Jonah says, calmly drinking his coffee. “I’d have been fine anywhere, honestly.”

And the thing about Jonah is he has a tendency to sideline himself, especially when his walls are as guarded as Fort Knox and he thinks there’s a high chance of rejection.

Possibly he’s obsessed, Nicholas thinks to himself as he leaves his cup in the sink. “And I’d have been happy either way, whoever my roommate would have been,” Nicholas says firmly. “You want more coffee?”

There’s a flicker in Jonah’s expression, but it’s gone before Nicholas can process it. “No, thank you, Nicholas,” Jonah says softly. Then he nods his head in Elliot’s direction. “You should probably make sure he’s not having a meltdown in there.”

“Probably wise,” he agrees. Then he pauses. “What about _soupe à l'oignon_?”

“I’ll teach you how to make chicken soup instead, how’s that?” Jonah answers instantly, a real smile lighting up his face this time, and Nicholas is relieved to see the dimple again.

Nicholas shrugs, mock-nonchalant. “Eh, that’s okay, I guess.”

Jonah laughs and shakes his head. “Go,” he says, shooing Nicholas away. “Tend to your roomie.”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Nicholas says.

Jonah salutes to him. “I’ll be here.”

When Nicholas gets to the second bedroom, he stops by the doorway and stares at Elliot. Elliot is hunched over by the side of the bed farthest from the door, his back facing Nicholas. But Nicholas can see Elliot drinking his coffee in between bouts of staring at the wall.

“Hey,” Nicholas says softly.

Elliot looks over his shoulder. “Do you want to room with Jonah?” he asks.

“Do you?” Nicholas shoots back.

Elliot shakes his head. “Not what I asked,” Elliot mutters, taking another sip from his cup. Nicholas has no idea how someone can make that one little action look so defensive, but Elliot manages somehow.

It is both endearing and exasperating, a mix of feelings Nicholas is used to when it comes to Elliot. “I’m also okay with any rooming arrangements,” Nicholas says, feeling a helpless swell of emotion when he sees the flush come back to Elliot’s cheeks.

“Then is it okay if I room with you?” Elliot asks his coffee, his thumbs circling over and over the white ceramic of the mug.

Nicholas finally goes inside and sits beside Elliot. “Yes, of course,” he answers. Elliot immediately moves closer and leans against Nicholas’ shoulder. 

Nicholas swallows the lump in his throat and puts his arm around Elliot, trying not to think about how Elliot curls even closer to him. Elliot is very naturally affectionate with Nicholas, and Nicholas used to think it was because Elliot was just that comfortable with his best friends. 

But when he brought it up with Caroline, she just looked at him in amusement and said, “Nicholas, he’s not like that with me or Jane. And even when we were together, he has never clung to me the way he clings to you.”

Nicholas isn’t entirely convinced that this means anything, especially when he sees how Elliot pointedly does not touch Jonah, the tension between the two of them so thick, even Elliot seems to feel it, unaware he may be. Whenever he sees them circling each other, Nicholas thinks: any day now, and they’ll finally figure it out and be together.

But then this happens: the warm puff of Elliot’s breath against the skin of Nicholas’ throat, the soft waves of his hair tickling the side of Nicholas’ face, the curve of his shoulder under Nicholas’ arm, the way his legs are almost curled over Nicholas’ lap.

“It’s okay,” Nicholas says to himself and to Elliot. 

Elliot is quiet for a minute, just thumbing his mug in circles, before he clears his throat and stands up. And Nicholas abruptly feels the loss of his warmth.

“I got you something,” Elliot says, smiling, before turning around to look through his suitcase.

Nicholas sighs quietly and settles more comfortably on the bed. “I hope it’s a hat because, for some mysterious reason, I couldn’t find my Boston one,” he says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Elliot says cheerfully. He whirls back to face Nicholas, holding out the hat in both hands. “Voila!”

Nicholas takes it dutifully. The khaki bucket hat has a wide brim with an adjustable chin strap. He stares more closely at the embroidered design at the front—three bottles with silver caps, each colored in with white, gray, and red threads.

“Are these,” Nicholas says slowly. “Salt, pepper, and paprika?”

“Yes!” Elliot beams. “And it goes with your shirt now, see?”

Nicholas looks down at the drawn outline of the salt bae on his shirt. “Right,” Nicholas says, bewildered. “My shirt.”

Elliot’s smile falters. “Is it,” he hesitates. “Do you not like it?”

Nicholas stares up at Elliot. “I love it,” he finally says. And it sounds like a confession.

Elliot blushes again, his pleased expression back. “Now you’re ready for our Disney expedition,” he says, looking as satisfied as Ian Purrtis after Jonah sneaks him extra treats.

“It’s not a jungle, Elliot,” Nicholas says laughingly.

“That’s what you think,” Elliot says darkly. He straightens up. “Now, shall we?”

Nicholas grabs his messenger bag and follows Elliot out. But they both stop by the foyer when they see Jonah leaning by the door, fiddling with his phone. 

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Elliot asks.

Nicholas almost swallows his tongue when Jonah smiles. “You like it?” Jonah asks innocently.

“You look like you’re auditioning for the role of Mad Hatter on his way to a tea party,” Elliot blurts out.

“Elliot, I’m touched,” Jonah says, placing a hand on his chest. “I think this is quite tame for the Mad Hatter, actually.”

“You’re wearing _pastel blue moccasins,_ ” Elliot says incredulously.

Nicholas stares at the way Jonah’s lime green suit fits his shoulders and how it tapers down to his legs. The only thing nondescript about Jonah’s outfit is the dark blue shirt he’s wearing underneath.

“It completes the outfit,” Jonah says placidly. “And it’s very Disney, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’ll fit right in, then,” Elliot rolls his eyes and slides past Jonah towards the door. 

Jonah watches Elliot with that patented half-fond half-wry look he has reserved for Elliot. “You look great,” Nicholas says to Jonah while locking up the house. “You’re not too hot, though?”

Jonah tilts his head. “Do you think I’m too hot?”

Nicholas almost drops the house keys. “I meant the suit,” Nicholas says, laughing in embarrassment. “But yeah, sure, you’re definitely too hot to handle.”

Jonah’s smile widens. “Thank you,” he says, sounding pleased. And Nicholas laughs even more at how Jonah preens like a peacock. “And it’s fine, the material is cotton.”

Before Nicholas can come up with a reply, Jonah adds, in a softer tone, “I love your hat, by the way.”

“Oh,” Nicholas says clumsily. “Elliot gave it to me.”

Jonah’s eyes dart up to Nicholas’ hat, before looking at Nicholas again. “I know,” Jonah says. 

Nicholas doesn’t realize they stopped walking until he hears Elliot call out, “Come on, guys, we’re losing daylight!” 

“Shall we go?” Jonah asks Nicholas, and Nicholas can only nod.

Their house is only a few minutes away from the theme park—which, Nicholas still doesn’t know how Elliot managed to book this place on such short notice—so their Lyft gets them there after a few minutes. 

Nicholas suddenly feels how overwhelmingly big Disney, like he really is stepping into another world. Kids of all ages are dragging their parents along Main Street, and there’s a Disney song blasting in the background, but Nicholas can’t really understand the words with how loud people were talking alongside them on the sidewalk. Nicholas squints his eyes against the glaringly colorful shops and the rows of potted artificial flowers along the paths. He doesn’t know if it’s the sun that’s making everything seem brighter or if it’s just him.

Nicholas looks down when Elliot squeezes his hand. “You okay?” He asks, pushing his sunglasses up to stare at Nicholas more intently.

“It smells like popcorn and cupcakes,” Nicholas says, dazed.

Elliot grins. And from Nicholas’ other side, he hears Jonah chuckle. “I know, it’s all so manufactured, isn’t it?” Elliot says in loud satisfaction, seemingly unaware of the dirty looks one couple with a child throws at him. “Let’s go.”

Elliot takes the lead, occasionally looking down at the park map. They take a few stops in between, particularly when they reach the big blue castle, because Jonah keeps wanting to take pictures on his phone.

“Don’t tell me you’ll actually frame these in your room?” Elliot asks Jonah, hands on his hips. “And our living room is out of the question, by the way.”

Jonah turns to him and ostentatiously clicks on his phone to take Elliot’s photo. Jonah’s lips quirk when Elliot squawks at him. “For posterity’s sake,” Jonah says. 

Elliot jolts forward, like he wants to grab Jonah’s phone. “Delete that photo,” Elliot hisses.

Jonah tucks it inside the inner pocket of his jacket. “You’ll have to delete it yourself, Elliot,” Jonah says, patting his jacket.

Nicholas bites the inside of his lip, trying not to laugh. He can feel the force of Elliot’s glare from behind those huge sunglasses. “I’m deleting it later,” Elliot says ominously before walking away.

“My phone will be under my pillow tonight, for your reference,” Jonah calls out to him.

Nicholas shuffles closer to Jonah. “I want a copy, if that’s okay,” he says with a grin.

“It’s best I give you more than one copy, anyway, in case he ever does get in my files,” Jonah says ruefully.

The architecture and design of the theme park changes, after they walk through the big castle. There are more sweeping trees, though Nicholas isn’t sure if those are artificial either, and cobbled paths and stone walls, like a facsimile of a medieval setting. Except there are also roller coasters and rides designed as grinning animals in the distance.

After strategically avoiding parents who are zooming through the sidewalks with their baby strollers, Elliot leads them to a wooden little gate with big trees arching over it. There’s already a line forming by the entrance from where Elliot is standing.

“What’s here?” Nicholas asks curiously as they stand in line.

“Royalty Majesty Makers,” Elliot answers mysteriously, craning his head to see if the gate has opened.

“How intriguing,” Jonah notes. “Will they help us overthrow current Disney monarchs and give us the seat of power?”

Elliot gets that expression on his face, the one where he wants to agree with Jonah but holds himself back because he likes arguing with Jonah too much. “Of course not,” Elliot says. “This is a _children’s theme park._ ”

Jonah raises an eyebrow, and Nicholas can tell he’s also thinking that Elliot probably had the same idea as him about the royalty makers.

They all look up when they hear the creaking sound of the gates opening. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!” A woman greets them with what Nicholas supposes is a British accent. She’s wearing a long red gown with puffed sleeves and shoulders, her golden hair styled in intricate buns on top of her head. “Welcome to the Fairytale Garden!”

The man beside her beckons them inside. “Come on in, don’t be shy!” He’s also wearing something vaguely Renaissance-themed that seems to have been Disney-fied: a huge overstuffed violet beret, glittery purple tunic with silver trim, and bright blue tights. 

The garden is an open area, with rows of benches facing a small stage set up with a throne and a red carpet. Elliot immediately drags them to the very front row, shamelessly getting past young kids and teenagers to get the seats he wants.

“Should I remind him that this is a ‘children’s theme park’?” Jonah murmurs to Nicholas, as Elliot waves at them furiously.

Nicholas laughs softly. “Save it for when you really need to tell him,” Nicholas advises. Jonah sits beside Elliot, and Nicholas follows after him, nodding politely at the bored-looking teenager beside him.

“What a lovely crowd we have here,” the woman says, gliding across the garden towards the stage in front. Nicholas is startled when a violin begins playing in the background and birds start chirping, even though there aren’t any flying around the vicinity.

Elliot meets his gaze, his sunglasses pushed back against his tousled hair, and mouths, _manufactured._ Nicholas smiles and shakes his head.

“Indeed, indeed, we must introduce ourselves, we mustn’t be rude!” the man says.

“Yes, yes,” the woman curtsies. And Nicholas wonders if they’ll keep saying words twice in a row. “Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. I am Lady Winifred.”

“And I am Sir Rowan,” Rowan says with an extravagant bow.

Elliot leans forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. There’s a glint in his eyes that Nicholas is dreadfully familiar with.

“And we are the Royalty Majesty Makers!” they say in unison, complete with jazz hands.

Rowan jumps off the stage and runs toward them. “Can anyone guess what we’re doing today?”

“Based on your designations, I presume you’re about to make us royalty somehow?” Elliot answers.

Rowan beams at Elliot. “Right you are, my good fellow, right you are!” He stretches out a hand to where Winifred is still standing at the stage, waving at the kids taking pictures of her. “The fair Lady Winifred will be imparting golden nuggets of wisdom.”

“How is that supposed to make us royalty?” Elliot asks politely. 

Jonah clears his throat. “Children’s theme park, remember, Elliot?” He murmurs.

But thankfully, this doesn’t bother Rowan. He just bows deeply to Elliot until his big beret is touching the ground. “My prince!” Rowan cries. “At last we have found him, Lady Winifred!”

Winifred gasps, her hands fluttering by her side. “Bring him to the palace quickly, Sir Rowan,” she cries out.

Nicholas stares at them, and beside him, Jonah’s shoulders are shaking from silent laughter. But alarmingly enough none of this fazes Elliot, there’s actually a small little curl at the corner of his lips. A beginning of a smug shenanigans look.

Elliot stands gracefully under the summer heat, looking like an actual prince in his fitting dress shirt and tapered trousers. “Yes, it is I, Prince—”

“Prince Convince,” Jonah announces in a deep and loud voice.

A small smirk flashes across Rowan’s face, before he goes back to looking like an awed lord. “Everyone please give a warm round of applause for Prince Convince finding his way back to the Kingdom of Fantasyland!”

Nicholas and Jonah clap until everyone in the garden is applauding. Elliot freezes at this, almost falling out of character, before raising his chin. “Thank you my kind subjects, but I’m afraid I can’t reach the palace without some assistance.”

“And how may we assist you, Your Highness?” Rowan asks.

“I am moored on this forsaken island and I need a trustworthy sea captain to help me find my way back to the kingdom,” Elliot says, turning to face his audience with a beseeching gaze. Then without looking away from the crowd, he brushes a hand on Jonah’s shoulder briefly. “Luckily Captain Certain has deemed to rescue me and bring me back to my kingdom on his small and humble but seaworthy vessel.”

Jonah stands, doing it as elegantly as Elliot did, and gives the crowd a rakish grin. “Though my vessel is certainly seaworthy, it is irrefutably _not_ small or humble. Now come, Prince Convince, and let us bring you home,” Jonah says, taking Elliot by the elbow and steering him towards the stage.

Nicholas takes out his phone and starts filming them. He probably has a stupid smile on his face, but he can’t help it. He’s constantly amazed by how Jonah and Elliot always make everything so extraordinary, how they make the mundane so magical. And he loves watching them banter and be witty, and making everyone else be dazzled by them. It’s part of Jonah’s and Elliot’s charm. 

“So which one’s your boyfriend?”

Nicholas glances to the side, pauses his video, and sees that the teenager beside him no longer looks bored. “I’m sorry?”

She tips her head at Jonah and Elliot, who are now on the stage with Rowan and Winifred. “Prince Convince or Captain Certain?” she asks.

“Oh,” Nicholas blinks. “I’m not...”

She grimaces. “Shit, is it a third-wheel sitch?” She asks sympathetically.

Nicholas almost says, _I don’t know._ “We’re just friends,” he finally answers.

She raises an eyebrow. “Right,” she drawls. “That’s why they’re calling you up on stage.”

“What?” Nicholas asks. And almost jumps out of his seat when he realizes Elliot and Jonah and everyone else on the planet is looking at him. 

“There you are,” Elliot says softly. And Nicholas doesn’t know how Elliot’s voice carries across the garden in such a terribly intimate voice. “We need our Knight of Light to bring us home.”

It’s a testament to how Nicholas knows Elliot so well that he can hear all the capitalization in his voice.

“We have a terrible time finding our way back home without our knight,” Jonah explains.

Nicholas stares at them, at Elliot’s wide, hopeful eyes, at Jonah’s half smile and full dimple. Then he stands up, feeling like he’s being pulled into the orbit of two of the most magnetic people he knows.

“Yeah, I guess I’m the knight of light,” Nicholas says, hitching his messenger bag higher on his shoulder. He waves a hand to the crowd when they applaud.

Elliot practically leaps off the stage to get to Nicholas. When Elliot wraps his fingers around Nicholas’ arm, Nicholas places his hand over Elliot’s, because that’s what a knight would do, right?

He hears Elliot’s breath hitch, and Nicholas almost decides to pull away before Elliot squeezes his arm and tugs him to the stage.

Jonah and Elliot transport him into another world, one where they battle dangerous sirens, meet talking animals, banter with Rowan and Winifred, and overthrow the usurper of Elliot’s throne. Their final scene ends with Elliot standing between Jonah and Nicholas, all three of them bowing as the crowd whoops and claps.

Rowan shakes their hands. “Good show, you guys,” he says in a very different voice. Winifred is giving air kisses to Elliot and Jonah.

“Thanks,” Nicholas pauses. “Do I call you Rowan?”

Rowan grins. “Name’s Joe,” he says.

“Thanks, Joe.”

“Well, that was fun,” Elliot says, practically bouncing on his feet as they leave Fairytale Garden.

“Did you have that whole story in your head this entire time?” Jonah asks him.

Elliot shoots Jonah a look. “Aside from the names, _Captain Certain_ , yes,” he sniffs.

Nicholas looks away from Jonah, biting his lip, because he’s pretty sure he has the same expression on his face.

“We need to acquire sustenance before going to our next expedition,” Elliot announces, burying his nose in his map and heading off.

“Come on, our knight in shining armor,” Jonah says, elbowing Nicholas gently. “Time to go.”

The park is busier, more strollers, more kids, more parents, and more Disney characters going around. He stops to take photos of the characters smiling and waving, because he knows his kids would love to see them when he goes back to work next week.

When they get to Liberty Square Market, Elliot takes his and Jonah’s hands and leads them through the throngs of families vying to buy food and drinks. At one point, Nicholas had to apologize to an irate teenager when Elliot elbowed her to the side.

“A little more carefully, please, Elliot,” Jonah cautions him.

Elliot looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at Jonah. The heat is starting to get to Elliot, from the strands of hair sticking to his temples and the faint flush on his face. “If they insist on standing in the only walking path available while staring at their phones, then I have the right to gently nudge them to the side,” Elliot says.

“Maybe she was telling someone that Disney’s cool,” Nicholas says reasonably, to which Elliot shoots him a dubious look.

“Unless she saw our fantastic version of The Royal Majesty, I seriously doubt it,” Elliot says.

Nicholas frowns. “I don’t think that’s what it’s called.”

“She almost spilled her drink because of how ‘gently’ you nudged her,” Jonah points out.

“Please focus at the task at hand and help me gently nudge the peons out of the way while we forage for food,” Elliot says politely and goes back to elbowing people.

While waiting for their orders (three all-beef hot dogs, two Mickey pretzels for Nicholas and Jonah and one fruit cup for Elliot, and three bottled water), Elliot turns to Nicholas with an outstretched hand. “Eco bag, please,” he says.

Nicholas raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think I have one with me?”

“Because you always carry at least one in your messenger bag,” Jonah answers.

Elliot stares at Jonah in surprise. “Yes,” he says slowly. “Nicholas does.”

Jonah stares back at Elliot evenly. The half-smile is back but there is no dimple in sight. 

And it’s like being back on stage, with dragons and turbulent seas to contend with, where there’s only the three of them. Never mind that the food hall is overcrowded and loud and hot. Nicholas can be pulled into another universe with just a look and a word from Elliot and Jonah.

Nicholas fumbles for his eco bag. “Here,” he says, handing it to Elliot.

Elliot looks away from Jonah and takes the bag from Nicholas. 

After strategically placing their bottled water and pretzels and the fruit cup inside, they hold their hot dog sandwiches and walk towards Frontierland. The theme changes again, this time an approximation of the “Old West” with big mine trains and roller coasters tucked in man-made caves and shops that look kind of like saloons from movies. Up ahead, Nicholas can see the snaking line for Splash Mountain, and he can hear the distant screams of the riders as the roller coaster falls down and climbs back up the track. But instead of them going inside to line up, which is what Nicholas expected, Elliot takes them to the docking station just across.

“Where are we going?” Jonah asks, looking back at Splash Mountain, and he obviously thought the same as Nicholas.

“Lunch place,” Elliot answers while taking videos of the station and “Rivers of America”, which Nicholas thought was pretty small and singular to be called plural bodies of water for an entire country, but it’s Disney.

They hopped on a motorized log raft and cruise along Rivers of America, which Elliot had wrinkled his nose at, until they reach the port of Tom Sawyer Island. There’s a lavender windmill up ahead, its blades rotating in a leisurely manner.

The island is surprisingly quiet when they get there. Nicholas can hear people talking and kids laughing in the distance, but it’s muted by the babbling stream unseen beneath all the foliage on the island. And a tension Nicholas didn’t know was there loosens from his shoulders.

They stop when they see people taking photos of the welcome sign by the steps. 

“‘Welcum,’” Elliot reads aloud and pauses, letting the silence speak for what he thinks of the way the word _welcome_ was spelled. “‘If you like dark caves, mystery mines, bottomless pits, shakey bridges, and big rocks, you have come to the best place I know. If you don’t like creepy, old, scary places, don’t worry… Huck Finn and myself was plenty scared too. Huck was more scared than me. Tom.’”

“At least we know we’re in the right place,” Jonah says brightly, his dimple reappearing when Nicholas laughs and Elliot glares at him. “Are we ever going to eat these hotdogs or are we cavorting off to these dark caves and bottomless pits?”

The faint flush on Elliot’s cheeks blooms into a full on blush. “When you’re done with sexualizing everything in this park, maybe you can follow me into the mines,” he says, walking away.

Nicholas blinks after him, trying to think of what was even vaguely sexual about what Jonah said, when Jonah comes up to him and murmurs, “Was it the hotdogs or the bottomless pits?”

Now Nicholas can kind of understand Elliot’s predicament because he feels himself turning red too. He laughs. “I think it’s your voice,” Nicholas says lightly but truthfully, and fiddles with the strap of his messenger bag higher. “Come on, we better go, or else he’ll eat our pretzels.”

Elliot gives a running commentary about the island, like he's an actual tour guide at the theme park, while they walk through the mines. When they get to the exit, Nicholas sees a wide walking pathway that's otherwise surrounded by trees and plants. They follow the path up, until they reach a shaded little area with round picnic tables and wooden benches. Nicholas realizes they've already reached the top of the island when he sees the distinct outline of Frontierland from the distance.

There are a few stragglers around the picnic area, but most of the people are gravitating towards the play area just across. Elliot commandeers a table at the farthest corner and distributes the food.

After they finish their hotdogs, Elliot sighs and takes a long drink from his bottle. "So what do you guys think so far?"

Nicholas says, "Fun," the same time Jonah replies, "As expected."

Elliot pokes at his fruit cup. "Really?" he asks.

Nicholas gently elbows Jonah, because obviously that question was for him. "I mean, so far, the whole Disney theme is terrifyingly hellish as you'd predicted, but it's also... fun, as Nicholas said," Jonah says.

Elliot rolls his eyes, but Nicholas can see him puffing up. "I was asking Nicholas, not you, Jonah," Elliot says, taking a triumphant bite of an apple slice.

"Well, the whole skit was great, but a little warning beforehand would have been nice," Nicholas replies.

Jonah laughs. "Disney will have to permanently shut down before we get a little warning before an Elliot shenanigan."

Elliot scowls at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nicholas cuts his pretzel into little pieces with the plastic cutlery, all the while hoping that Jonah doesn't bring up what Nicholas thinks he's about to bring up.

"Remember the Airbnb debacle?" Jonah says silkily.

Here we go, Nicholas thinks, and eats a slice of pretzel.

Elliot inhales deeply. “The Airbnb was only a mishap because of the execution, not because it wasn’t well thought out,” Elliot retorts.

“What’s well-thought out about forgetting you had _rented out our living room_ and forgetting to tell us about it?” Jonah wants to know.

Nicholas can’t help laugh at that, and he shakes his head when Elliot throws him a betrayed look. “I’m sorry,” he gasps out. “You should’ve seen Jonah when the guests came looking for you. So he acted and pretended to _be_ you.” Nicholas remembers being drawn out of his room by all the unfamiliar voices suddenly inside their home. He’d been studying for two exams that day, so he was feeling a little withdrawn and discombobulated. And he remembered feeling so relieved when Jonah winked at him and mouthed, _leave this to me._

“Is that why they left awful reviews?” Elliot exclaims, narrowing his eyes at Jonah. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them, in French,” Jonah says with a small smile. “That there was a mistake in the booking schedule.” Jonah shrugs. “That pretty much made them ready to bolt. Then we booked them a hotel nearby.” 

Elliot frowns. “That wasn’t so bad,” he allows. “Then why did their reviews say one of the house owners kept acting crazy?”

Nicholas glances at Jonah, who’s eating the neglected grapes and peach slices in Elliot’s fruit cup while Elliot keeps getting pretzels from Nicholas. Nicholas waits for Jonah to mention that Elliot had kept glaring at the couple Jonah was working overtime to charm and get out of the house as politely as possible, completely forgetting who they were and so assuming they were Jonah’s one/two-night stands, and saying loudly that this wasn’t a brothel while banging the cupboards and pots in the kitchen even though he didn’t know how to cook.

Nicholas waits. Then Jonah looks back at Nicholas and smiles. He slides his untouched pretzel across the table to Nicholas and says baldly, “No idea.”

Nicholas takes the pretzel and bites into it, his mouth watering from the salty and slightly sweet flavor, the crispy crust giving way to a softer and a chewy texture on the inside.

Elliot sighs. “I guess it was for the best,” he says grudgingly. 

“Definitely was,” Nicholas says firmly. He doesn’t like the idea of strangers sitting, let alone sleeping on their couch. He was a little ambivalent about it at first, but he’s grown to love that couch now. He likes how stuffed and comfortable it is. He loves how soft and warm the throw pillows are. Nicholas knows Jonah got them for him as a consolation for not getting the “gingerbread” couch, but it adds a nice touch to their living room. 

When Nicholas got the blue green afghan, he’d meant for it to be used by all three of them, but particularly Jonah, who had wanted something in that color in the living room. Obviously Jonah doesn’t use it, since Elliot pretty much commandeered the afghan. But Nicholas thinks Jonah’s okay with that, considering the way he stares at Elliot whenever Elliot wraps it around himself.

“It’s home,” Jonah adds, shrugging.

Nicholas looks up at him. “It is?” Nicholas asks him uncertainly. Jonah has seen and lived in so many places, by choice, by circumstance, or by luck. So Nicholas has never known how Jonah feels about the Eggplant, except that maybe it’s just a place to sleep and eat.

Jonah meets his eyes. “It’s been more of a home to me than anywhere I’ve been.”

“Oh,” Elliot says softly. And when Nicholas turns to him, Elliot is staring at Jonah with wide eyes.

Jonah raises an eyebrow. “Why do you guys look so surprised?” He asks.

Nicholas doesn’t know why. But maybe it’s because, to this day, he still remembers the wary expression on Jonah’s face when Elliot had first brought up being roommates at the Eggplant. He remembers Jonah being so quiet and politely charming those first few weeks, cooking his own food before retreating back to his room. 

Nicholas remembers trying to make breakfast for the three of them, and the look of horror Jonah couldn’t hide from his face when Nicholas burnt the eggos somehow. He remembers Jonah smiling that dimpled smile, and getting up to make french toast instead, while Elliot kept looking over Jonah’s shoulder and complaining that Jonah was such a show off, thinking he’s such a master chef. 

He remembers Jonah offering to teach him how to cook, saying lightly that he’s learned a few basic stuff from living by himself. He remembers the first time they cooked Jonah’s stir fry, the way they were all quiet, even Elliot, while Jonah told them that Mrs. Cheng had been one of the kind strangers he had met, that her home cooked meals were still the best Chinese food Jonah has ever tasted.

Nicholas remembers the first time he fell asleep on Jonah’s shoulder on the couch, how he’d woken up with the afghan on his lap and how Jonah had been so still and careful beside him. He remembers the feeling of warmth in his chest when he started seeing Jonah's framed pictures hanging from the purple walls, with photos of their friends in different group permutations from different occasions.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Nicholas answers finally, grinning. “I guess we never thought you’d admit that the Eggplant is home.”

“There’s no place like home like the Eggplant,” Jonah allows, his dimple peeking through. “Kind of like how there’s no one quite like my two roommates.”

“Well, I'm glad you're around to appreciate our awesomeness,” Elliot says, his voice sounding sharp and soft at the same time. And Nicholas stops eating the pretzel even as Jonah pauses from taking a sip of his water. 

“Because we’re the epitome of perfect roommates, aren’t we, Nicholas?” Elliot continues, unaware of the effect his previous words had and what it might mean.

Nicholas swallows. “Don’t know about perfect,” he says, trying not to notice how Jonah is studying him and Elliot in turns. “But I like the way things are.” 

They talk about school, their upcoming workload for this summer. Then they catch up on how Nicholas’ kids are at the childcare and wellness center clinic. Jonah tells them about the upcoming acting gigs he has lined up for the summer, and how he’s planning to juggle that with school and work. Elliot talks about the clients he’s working with for his social media marketing projects, and how he’s starting to think about how he can incorporate social media in his thesis. 

“What about your proposal for Wurtzie?” Jonah asks.

“What proposal?” Nicholas asks.

Elliot narrows his eyes at Jonah. “How do you know about that?”

Jonah shrugs. “Word gets around in the theatre department.”

Elliot gets up and cleans their table, his movements disjointed. “I’m still thinking about it,” he mutters, before going to the nearest bin to throw away the trash.

Nicholas turns to Jonah. “Is he still working on something for his minor in theatre?”

Jonah presses his lips together. “I’m not entirely sure,” he says slowly. When Elliot gets back, Jonah begins, “Elliot—”

“We have to go,” Elliot blurts, ostentatiously looking at his watch. “We have fast passes scheduled in a few minutes.”

Nicholas squeezes Jonah’s hand under the table, but maybe he didn’t need to, because Jonah just stares up at Elliot before nodding and getting up. Jonah squeezes his hand back before pulling away.

When they get back to Frontierland, Nicholas is bemused to see Elliot walking determinedly inside Big Thunder Mountain, flashing three passes at one of the security guards. 

“How’d you get the fast passes for this?” Nicholas asks, as they walk inside, moving past the disgruntled people lining up on the other side from where they’re walking.

“You can book up to three FastPass+ for rides online in advance,” Elliot recites, still walking determinedly.

“Thought you didn’t want to do the rides,” Jonah says mildly from Elliot’s other side.

“I said nothing of the sort,” Elliot responds. “And also this is part of the Experience.”

The ride attendant lets Nicholas and Jonah pass through to take a seat on the brightly colored train before holding a hand out to Elliot. 

“Oh, he’s with us,” Nicholas says.

“I’m with them,” Elliot confirms.

“Sorry, guys, but two persons per row. You can take the next row,” the ride attendant tells Elliot.

Nicholas glances at Jonah, who’s already sitting down, before looking back at Elliot, who’s pouting. “Is that okay with you?” He asks Elliot.

“We don’t have a lot of time guys, so if you can make up your mind asap, I still have to let other people through,” the ride attendant says.

Elliot throws his hands up in the air. “Fine!”

Jonah clears his throat and when Nicholas turns to him, Jonah is patting the empty seat next to him. How he doesn’t look ridiculous, wearing a lime suit in a yellow-colored train, Nicholas doesn’t know. 

When the lap bar comes down, Jonah whispers in Nicholas’ ear, “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. His seatmate will keep him entertained.”

Nicholas glances behind him, where Elliot is sitting beside a pre-teen. Nicholas can’t hear what they’re talking about, because of the sound effects blaring loudly but it looks like a very deep conversation. 

“If you need to hold my hand,” Jonah tells him solemnly, his eyes twinkling. “Feel free.”

“You’re joking, but I might actually take you up on that,” Nicholas laughs.

“Who says I was joking?” Jonah says. And because he has to get the last word, that’s when their roller coaster moves.

Their train speeds through the “abandoned mine shaft” and Nicholas is holding tightly onto the lap bar, especially when they suddenly take sharp turns. Beside him, Jonah is whooping, his fingers touching Nicholas’ on the bar. 

Nicholas couldn’t help but jump and lean against Jonah when boulders started falling, their train swooping at the last minute. Jonah turns his head to him, his breathless laughter warm against Nicholas’ temple. Nicholas laughs too, because this is all so ridiculous.

When they start going up and down canyons, Nicholas grabs for Jonah’s hand, as each drop gets longer and longer. By the time they’re weaving their way out of the mine shaft and towards the ghost town of Tumbleweed, where they’re hit by the light of the afternoon sun, Nicholas is screaming along with Jonah, their voices drowned out by the rushing of the train and the sound effects.

By the time the ride stops, Nicholas and Jonah are breathless and smiling, their fingers laced together over the bar. Nicholas’ throat feels sore, but he’s not sure if it’s from screaming or laughing so much.

“Okay, that was pretty fun,” Nicholas says as they get out of the ride, still feeling the bite of the wind again his face, the way adrenaline is making his heart pound. 

And Nicholas’ heart beats double time at Jonah’s dimple, his windblown hair, his dark eyes. “Better than coffee?” Jonah asks.

Nicholas pretends to think about it. “Maybe not.”

Jonah laughs. 

“Why are you guys holding hands?” Elliot asks loudly. He waves goodbye distractedly to his seatmate, before looking back at Jonah and Nicholas. Elliot’s hair is as windblown as Jonah’s, and there’s a flush on his cheekbones.

Nicholas realizes with a start that his fingers are still laced with Jonah’s. Jonah squeezes his hand before pulling away. “The Big Thunder Mountain was a big bonding experience,” Jonah says. 

Elliot stares at Jonah uncertainly, like he’s not sure if Jonah’s joking or not. “Well,” Elliot says. “We have to go. We still have two coasters.”

They spend the walk to Splash Mountain with Elliot ranting about the way Big Thunder Mountain depicted the Gold Rush era in the country and how its romantic portrayal is so completely removed from what happened in history.

“Since when do you know so much about the Gold Rush?” Nicholas asks Elliot, amused.

Jonah makes a soft sound from beside Nicholas. “By googling it for an inordinate amount of time.”

“I like to know about a particular thing before rushing into it,” Elliot says primly.

Nicholas bites his lip, but Jonah doesn’t even bother. He laughs softly, and murmurs, “If only.”

Elliot glares at him. “When you’re done with making cryptic remarks like the caterpillar in Alice and Wonderland,” he says icily. “You can keep following me.”

Nicholas notices that as they’re getting nearer the entrance to the ride, Elliot nudges closer and closer to him, until they’re practically fused from shoulder to hip.

“Elliot,” Nicholas says, fondly exasperated. “If you want us to sit together on this ride, we can.”

Elliot looks up at him guiltily, before glancing quickly behind them, presumably at Jonah. “You don’t want to sit with Jonah?” He asks.

“I want to sit with both of you,” Nicholas says truthfully. “But I think most seats are going to be for two people. We can take turns.”

Elliot’s eyes widen at this. “I don’t want to sit with Jonah!” He hisses.

And that right there is telling, Nicholas thinks to himself. He raises his hands up and smiles. “Okay, then you don’t,” he says easily.

Elliot nods to himself before continuing walking forward. Nicholas glances back, to let Jonah know about the foreseeable seating arrangements, and he sees Jonah chatting with another boy, both of them smiling as they walk side by side. The boy is blushing under Jonah’s attention, and why wouldn’t he?

And Nicholas feels something drop in his stomach, like something heavy has settled at the bottom. Which is ridiculous, because he knows that’s not a real thing, he’s studied the human body. He feels stupid for being worried about Jonah feeling left out, or being by himself. Jonah’s never by himself, as evidenced by the blushing boy.

But then Jonah looks up to meet Nicholas’ eyes, his smile flashing real for a second to show that dimple, and he winks at Nicholas. 

That heavy feeling dissipates, even as an unknowable thought unfurls in the back of Nicholas’ mind, like an idea he can’t quite articulate. He nods at Jonah, and it’s only after that reassurance that Jonah turns back to his new friend.

He and Eliot take their seats on the front row of the train, and Elliot is practically bouncing in his seat, doing his best not to look excited even though he clearly is. When Elliot notices him looking, he says, “Hi.”

Nicholas’ lips twitch. “Hi.”

“So, Nicholas,” Elliot says mock-solemnly. “Do you think this ride would need more paprika?”

Nicholas stares. “That… I’m scared that I actually understood what you meant by that.”

Elliot’s smile gets bigger. And as he stares at Elliot’s face underneath all the artificial lights, his eyes bright and sparkling, his grin so familiar and secretive, Nicholas is hit by that unfurling, nameless feeling again.

Then there’s no more time to wonder, because the ride starts with terrifyingly cute audio-animatronics of all kinds of animals singing what Nicholas presumes to be Disney songs. Nicholas knows he’s staring openly at Elliot, who’s subconsciously singing along ‘Everybody’s Got a Laughing Place’ and getting all the words right, but he can’t help himself.

The sudden drops in the roller coaster snap Nicholas out of it, but since it’s more steep, he and Elliot end up holding each other’s hand as they come falling down, splashes of water hitting their faces whenever they land.

“Oh my god,” Elliot says in sudden realization, as their car slowly ascend the tracks that seem to have no end. “We’re going to get soaked.”

Nicholas can’t even reply, because suddenly the train wobbles precariously on top of the tracks before slowly descending and gaining full speed as they go down. The wind is sharp and biting against Nicholas' skin. He doesn’t even have the voice to scream, it feels as if his heart has left his body, like his head has turned upside down, which is completely jarring when you know you’re sitting right side up. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, and Nicholas doesn’t know if he wants it to end.

When they slide down the bottom, they splash right into the water, and Elliot is right, they’re completely soaked. Hair dripping, shirt drenched, Nicholas turns to Elliot and stops. 

Elliot is laughing and wiping his face. His hair is completely plastered to his temples, droplets trailing down his cheek and jaw. Nicholas can see Elliot’s skin from the translucent white dress shirt clinging to his body. 

“Definitely had lots of paprika,” Elliot says to him in satisfaction, and that’s when Nicholas notices how wet and plush Elliot’s lips look.

Nicholas busies himself with lifting the restraint and wiping down his bag. “Yeah,” Nicholas says hoarsely, not looking at Elliot as they get out. “Definitely.”

“How come you aren’t as wet?” Elliot demands when Jonah joins them. And it’s true; there are a few droplets on his face and shirt, but Jonah seems unscathed overall.

“Mark goes every other year so we sat at the back,” Jonah says, with a small smile. “Looks like you guys had fun, though.”

Elliot tugs at the hem of his dress shirt before it falls back wetly against his skin. “Yeah, but I forgot that we were getting wet,” he mutters.

Nicholas clears his throat. “I have extra shirts,” he says.

Elliot brightens at this before he stills, a thought clearly occurring to him. “It isn’t one of those meme shirts, is it?” He says suspiciously.

“Maybe,” Nicholas says innocently.

“It’s the meme shirt or it’s the wet dress shirt,” Jonah points out.

Elliot sighs heavily. “Fine.”

Nicholas and Elliot change clothes in the restroom. When they both get out of their respective stalls, Nicholas can’t help but laugh out loud at how Elliot’s expression matches the grumpy cat on his shirt. 

“I don’t remember buying this for you,” Elliot mutters, tucking in the shirt inside his pants, while studying his reflection in the mirror.

“No, I bought it for you,” Nicholas admits, laughing again when Elliot throws him a look. “For emergencies such as this. Amazon described the shade as _butter_ , but it was the closest to beige I could find.”

Elliot is laughing with Nicholas now, even though he’s visibly doing his best to pretend he’s still upset. “Thank you for the consideration,” he says, looking up at Nicholas with a soft look. He clears his throat and turns back to the mirror, fluffing his wet hair this way and that. “You know, I honestly thought you’d wear a blazer today.”

“I don’t always wear a blazer,” Nicholas denies, even though, yeah, he did bring a blazer for this trip. 

Elliot gives him another look. “Remember when we took a hike up to Walden Pond?”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Nicholas says laughingly. “You picked up a random walking stick along the path and actually used it. You _brought a pineapple and_ _talked to it in French_.”

“It was a glorious addition to our little trip, I think,” he says, shamelessly pleased with himself.

Nicholas shakes his head. “I still don’t know how there are dozens of photos of me in my blazer online, and how there’s none of you with that ridiculous pineapple.”

Elliot waggles his fingers. “I’m a regular social media guru, baby,” he winks.

And Elliot should look ridiculous, with his wet, messy hair, with his meme shirt and linen trousers. But he doesn’t and all Nicholas wants in that moment is to kiss the smile off Elliot’s lips so he can finally know what it tastes like.

But Nicholas doesn’t.

Instead he just busies himself with folding their wet shirts neatly and putting them inside his messenger bag.

Space Mountain is all the way on the other side of the theme park, in Tomorrowland, and they spend the walk comparing which of the two roller coasters they’ve tried is better. Elliot and Jonah are debating what to include in the rubrics. So far they’ve agreed to judge the rides on theme, narrative of the ride, characters, visual and sound effects, turns, and drops.

“What do you think, Nicholas?” Jonah asks.

“I love them both,” Nicholas says.

Jonah looks at him fondly. “Of course you do.”

“Big Thunder Mountain had a better atmospheric feel to it in terms of theme, I think,” Elliot says thoughtfully. “And Splash Mountain had a lot of absurdly gaudy talking animals. But at least they sang Disney classics, which is quintessential for a Disney ride.”

Jonah chuckles. “I bet you sang along ‘Everybody’s Got a Laughing Place’ when they played it.”

Nicholas says, “Yeah, he definitely did,” the same time Elliot retorts, “No, I didn’t!”

Elliot huffs, a reluctant smile on his face, while Nicholas and Jonah laugh.

The nearer they get Space Mountain, the more fidgety Elliot becomes, and even Jonah has retreated into his watchful stance. Nicholas wonders if they’re all losing their minds about the same thing, who sits with who, or if it’s just him. 

Nicholas manages to hold back his hysterical laughter, only just, when he sees that the cars are one-seaters.

As Elliot happily gets ahead of them to take his seat, Jonah leans close to Nicholas, “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

Nicholas glances at him in amusement. The blue glow of the lights in the dim room are casting shadows across Jonah’s profile, from the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones to his jaw. “We’ll find another ride where the two of you can sit together,” Nicholas promises. 

Jonah tilts his head, and this time Nicholas isn’t sure if it’s the blue glow that brings a light to Jonah’s eyes or if it’s just… Jonah. 

“Nicholas,” Jonah says gently. And Nicholas swallows at how Jonah says his name, like an intimate secret. “I want the three of us to sit together.”

Then Jonah places a light hand on his back and ushers him to his seat, before going behind him to take his. And Nicholas, dazed and dumb as he feels, lets him.

The actual ride is a blur, and they’re careening past shooting stars and blazing comets. And the roller coaster is dark, and Nicholas is sitting by himself, so he raises his hands and lets himself enjoy the ride.

When they leave Space Mountain, Nicholas tilts his head up to soak in the last of the setting sun. This is one of his favorite things about summer; the days are longer and warmer, the heat sinking slowly in his skin.

They’re walking more leisurely now, back to Main Street, and Nicholas isn’t surprised when his two roommates are drawn to the sounds of piano keys.

They stop at Casey’s Corner, where a small crowd is watching a distinguished-looking man dressed in a red and white striped dress shirt and white pants expertly play a piano.

After he finishes his performance, he turns to the applauding crowd. “Any requests from the audience?” He inquires.

“I do,” Jonah says, raising a hand. 

“What are you doing?” Elliot asks him suspiciously.

Jonah glances at both of them and smiles. “Do you trust me?” Jonah asks.

“Yeah,” Nicholas says automatically while Elliot sputters.

Jonah’s smile deepens, his dimple more prominent. “Then enjoy the ride,” he says cryptically before walking up to the pianist and says his song request to him quietly.

“Ah,” the pianist says, throwing a wink to Jonah. “Nothing beats a classic.”

The pianist turns back to his piano and plays the first chord, Jonah standing tall and proud next to him. This makes more sense when Jonah opens his mouth and sings, while looking straight ahead, “ _I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid._ ”

“Oh that showy street rat,” Elliot breathes. 

Nicholas swallows, his mouth feeling dry, and stares as Jonah walks towards the audience while singing the lyrics, his voice smooth and deep.

Nicholas is startled when Elliot turns to him abruptly. “We need to show him how it’s done.”

“What?” Nicholas asks. “No, I’m not singing with _Jonah_.” Even that sentence was ridiculous in itself.

“It’s a duet!” Elliot hisses. “What, is he planning to sing both parts?”

Nicholas elbows him playfully. “Then go sing with him,” he urges. “Show him a whole new world.”

Elliot looks up at Nicholas. “Do you remember when we watched the 1993 Oscars?” he asks.

“Vaguely,” Nicholas answers slowly. “Didn’t we binge watch four of those like in one day?”

Elliot waves his hand and starts speaking rapidly, “Lea Salonga and Brad Kane performed ‘A Whole New World’ in the Oscars, and I was thinking you can be Brad Kane and sing the lyrics, _a whole new world_ while I do Jasmine’s verses.”

Nicholas blinks. “Elliot, I don’t even remember what Brad Kane did.”

“Just look like you’re in love and hold my hand,” Elliot assures him. Then he does take Nicholas’ hand and pulls him to the front. “Come on, don’t you trust _me_?”

“That is completely unfair,” Nicholas says, even as he lets Elliot drag him forward. “You owe me for this.”

“ _A whole new world,_ ” Elliot sings to him, in time to the music, his eyes shining. “ _A dazzling place I never knew._ ”

Nicholas jumps when Jonah glides toward them and takes Nicholas’ other hand, so now it’s almost like they’re both singing to Nicholas while holding his hands. Jonah and Elliot both have the same self-satisfied expressions on their faces, and it’s highly likely they’re not even aware of it.

Fuck, Nicholas thinks helplessly, as Elliot sings about unbelievable sights and an indescribable feeling.

When Elliot squeezes his hand, Nicholas takes a deep breath and sings, “ _A whole new world,_ ” and tries not to choke when Jonah leans in close and sings back, “ _Don't you dare close your eyes._ ”

And somehow the three of them manage to sing a song for two people, with Elliot and Jonah taking turns prompting Nicholas on when it’s his turn to sing, while they circle their small impromptu stage in flawless turns.

The song ends with them standing beside the piano player, their hands still intertwined. Nicholas can’t hear the applause over his heart, but he sees people clapping, even their pianist.

Then Elliot is looking up at him again, a fierce expression on his face. “You were brilliant,” he says in a low voice. “I knew you’d be.”

“You were both brilliant,” Jonah agrees quietly.

Nicholas just stares at them, because they are all _still holding each other’s hands._

Elliot seems to have heard his unsaid statement, because he blinks and steps back. “I should… I should buy those Mickey Mouse ears,” he says weakly, his shoulders hunched, as if he knows how flimsy his excuse sounds. “I promised Jane and everyone else I’d get them one.”

Nicholas stares after his retreating back until Jonah places his hand on Nicholas’ back.

“I think we deserve ice cream,” Jonah says quietly. “Shall we?”

“Jonah,” Nicholas protests. “I don’t—”

“Oh look,” Jonah says easily. “How perfectly convenient. The Plaza Ice Cream Parlor is just across.” 

Nicholas shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he points out.

“I aim to please,” Jonah quips. “Come on, my treat. Elliot will find us when he’s ready.”

They settle into a comfortable silence as they order, their shoulders pressed together, and fingertips barely touching. Then as Jonah flips his wallet open to pay, Nicholas notices something familiar. 

Unthinkingly, he takes Jonah’s wrist to stop him from closing his wallet. Then Nicholas stares at the photo placed inside the transparent little pocket.

“Take it, Nicholas,” Jonah says quietly. 

Nicholas lets go and clutches Jonah’s wallet with both hands while Jonah gets their ice cream. He can’t stop staring at the photo.

In the picture, where the background is of Walden Pond’s sprawling trees and sparkling lake from three years ago, Elliot is jauntily holding a walking stick in one hand while holding up a pineapple in the other. He’s completely unaware of his surroundings, his eyes crinkled like he’s laughing, and his mouth open mid-sentence, because he was probably talking in French. And right across from Elliot is Nicholas, in his blazer, leaning against a tree and laughing along with Elliot and looking as besotted as he feels.

“Where did you get this,” Nicholas whispers.

Jonah hands him his ice cream wordlessly, and Nicholas takes it but keeps holding onto Jonah’s wallet with one hand. “I took it,” Jonah says simply, his eyes on the picture. “I wanted… I wanted a small piece of that moment. Even if I wasn’t necessarily a part of it.” Jonah huffs out a small laugh. “When I found out Elliot was on a crusade to delete photos of himself from that day, I was just relieved I didn’t share it with anyone else.”

Nicholas thinks back on the way Jonah had opened his wallet, how Jonah had been ready and accepting of Nicholas just wanting to _see_ it. “Did you _want_ me to see the photo?” Nicholas asks incredulously in realization.

Jonah looks up from the photo and stares at Nicholas, his eyes dark and unfathomable. Then Jonah throws his melted ice cream in the trash, before carefully taking his wallet from Nicholas. He slowly slides the photo out of the pocket and gives it to him. “I suppose I wanted to know what you’d say,” Jonah finally answers.

Nicholas thumbs the faded corner of the photo, feeling how worn and old it is in his hand. “What if I said I wanted to keep it?” 

Jonah nods then curls Nicholas’ hand close, until Nicholas’ fingers are closed over the photo. “Then it’s yours,” he says steadily, his lips twisted into a facsimile of a smile.

And that unfurling comes back tenfold, overflowing inside Nicholas’ heart and mind until he can’t think of anything else. “Jonah,” Nicholas whispers. “I… He doesn’t even see me that way.”

Jonah lowers his eyes again, his thumb brushing gently over the knuckles of Nicholas’ fingers. “Yes, he does,” Jonah says. 

Nicholas shakes his head in instinct. “No,” he says, his heart beating faster, the word feeling like ash in his mouth. “No, he doesn’t. How do you, why...”

“Nicholas,” Jonah says gently. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not looking at him.”

“And I’ve seen the way you both look at each other when you think the other one’s not looking,” Nicholas says wretchedly.

Jonah lets out a ragged laugh. “Then how is it,” Jonah says in a cuttingly savaged voice, and finally he looks at Nicholas again, his eyes unflinching and still so dark. “That you haven’t seen the way _I_ look at _you_?”

“I—” Nicholas takes a step back in surprise. “No.”

Jonah takes a step forward, still holding Nicholas’ hand where he’s clutching the photo. “What do you mean no?” Jonah asks tightly. 

“I mean, there’s no way you can feel that way about me _and_ Elliot!” Nicholas exclaims.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean _why not_?”

“I mean,” Jonah says in a clear, loud voice. “Why can’t I be in love with two of the most amazing people I’ve ever known, and probably will ever know, in my life? Why is it so unthinkable that the human heart is big enough to love two people in very similar but very different ways?” Jonah takes another step forward, until they’re only a breath apart. “Tell me honestly, Nicholas, when you think of coming home to someone, when you think of curling up on the sofa to watch your favorite trashy reality TV shows, when you think of holding someone close in bed, when you think of kissing someone — to know the scent of their skin, to know the taste of their smile. Tell me, who is it you imagine with you?”

Nicholas shuts his eyes close. “Why now?” He asks instead, because he already knows that Jonah knows his answer. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Nicholas opens his eyes again when he feels Jonah tuck his hair behind his ear, his hands so careful and gentle, like he’s touching a dream he’s trying to keep before it dissipates. “Because I finally caught you looking back at me too,” Jonah answers in a quiet voice. He curves his fingers to the shape of Nicholas’ ear before his hand falls away, and then Jonah steps back too. 

“And if you want the picture for yourself, then that’s fine,” Jonah promises, his voice even, his eyes steady on Nicholas. “I won’t say a word about this again. Just. Tell me what you want, Nicholas.”

Nicholas takes a shuddering breath and takes a step forward, then another. Then another, until the brim of his hat is touching Jonah’s head. “What if I said,” Nicholas whispers, licking his lips nervously, and noticing how Jonah’s eyes stray to the movement before focusing back on him again. “What if I said you could keep the picture? That it’s yours.”

Jonah’s breath hitches, even as a smile curls at the corner of his mouth, his dimple slowly reappearing. And Nicholas so desperately wants to press his lips to that small indent, he wants to know what Jonah’s happiness tastes like. 

“Then I say it’s time for us to learn how to speak French,” Jonah says unevenly, as he blinks rapidly. “So we can show Jasmine a whole new world.”

Nicholas laughs, and that’s when he realizes that he’s still holding his ice cream cone in his other hand, the ice cream dripping and sticky over his fingers. He laughs even more when Jonah pulls out a handkerchief from his jacket’s inner pocket and wipes Nicholas’ fingers. As soon as Jonah is done, Nicholas wraps his arms around Jonah’s neck. He’s a little taller than Jonah, but he manages to tuck his head by the crook of his shoulder.

Jonah freezes for a second before relaxing in Nicholas’ arms and wrapping his hands around Nicholas’ back. Nicholas’ eyes flutter shut at how warm and enveloping Jonah feels. And it says everything he can’t ever articulate.

Still, he tries. “I can’t wait to see this whole new world with you both,” he murmurs.

Jonah’s hands tighten around him. “I can’t go back to where I used to be,” he confesses.

Nicholas nods. “I know,” he says, swallowing. He knows it’s a lyric from the song. But he also knows Jonah. 

“Are you guys okay?”

They pull apart at Elliot’s voice. Elliot is staring at them uncertainly while holding shopping bags in both hands.

Jonah takes the photo from Nicholas and tucks it back in his wallet in one smooth move. “Just reminiscing over what an emotional day this has been,” Jonah explains.

Elliot rolls his eyes at that and gives one of the shopping bags to Jonah for him to carry. “Nicholas, just let me know if he’s being too overwrought, I’ve got your back,” Elliot says.

“I think I can handle it,” Nicholas says easily, and smiles at how both Elliot and Jonah glance at him with pleased approval.

They follow Elliot as he takes them to “the perfect spot to watch the evening fireworks.” The unfurling feeling inside Nicholas isn’t as terrifying anymore, and he feels more… hopeful and anticipatory. 

Nicholas takes a deep breath and walks forward, watching the lights in Magic Kingdom go up as dusk settles in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. [Nicholas’ first shirt](https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/1291842-salt-bae). I had a peg for his hat too, but I couldn’t find it. :( 
> 
> 2\. [Jonah’s lime suit and shoes](https://www.wdwmagic.com/attractions/magic-kingdom/gallery/22mar2017-gq-style-magazine-menswear-fashion-shoot-at-walt-disney-world-resort/29871.htm)
> 
> 3\. Last I checked, the Fairytale Garden is used for “Meet Merida” events but I’m not sure how updated my information is. The Royalty Majesty Makers is also real, but I’m not sure if it’s just actors going around or if it’s an event with a standard program. I don’t know what they do, so I let Elliot take the reins on that one.
> 
> 4\. [Tom Sawyer Island reference](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My1qNot7sig)
> 
> 5\. I’ve only seen photos of the three roller coasters I included, so I took many liberties in how the rides are actually like in this fic.
> 
> 6\. [Nicholas’ extra shirt for Elliot](https://www.amazon.com/Cat-Grumpy-Meme-Premium-T-Shirt/dp/B00B8X7CY0?th=1) and [Nicholas’ extra shirt for himself](https://www.amazon.com/bongo-cat-meme-tshirt-cute/dp/B07HFHXDBY?customId=B07537PB8C&th=1).
> 
> 7\. [There is a real piano player in Casey’s Corner and his name is Jim](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNBTcuWYaJM)!


	3. Day 2: Elliot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shenaniganniversary! Have an Elliot.

Elliot wakes up to music playing in the background. He sits up in bed and sees that Nicholas’ side is already neatly made, the sheets folded and the pillows stacked on top of each other. 

As he shuffles along the hallway, the music becoming more audible, Elliot hears low voices interspersed with faint laughter while Morrissey sings about getting what he wants this time. Elliot can smell butter and cinnamon and Nicholas’ life-giving organic roast in the air.

In the kitchen, Elliot sees Nicholas dunking slices of bread in a bowl and setting it down on a plate, before Jonah starts toasting them on the pan. On the countertop, Jonah’s phone and Bluetooth speakers are playing The Smiths. 

Elliot watches them for a moment, the way the sun is shining over their bent heads, how Jonah turns to Nicholas and leans closer before saying something that makes Nicholas laugh. Then Nicholas notices Elliot by the entrance and his smile widens.

“Morning, Elliot,” Nicholas greets him.

Jonah looks at him too, that perpetual smirk on his face. “Good morning, Elliot,” he echoes.

Elliot grunts and sits on one of the bar stools. “What are you guys making for breakfast?” Elliot says around a yawn. 

“French toast,” Nicholas answers, going back to dunking bread.

“Don’t forget the paprika,” Elliot mumbles, propping his chin up on his hand. 

“I bet you wouldn’t actually eat this if I _did_ add paprika,” Nicholas comments amusedly.

“Hmm.”

“Here,” Jonah says, nudging a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.

“Did you put cream and sugar?” 

Jonah mock bows. “Yes, Prince Convince,” he says drolly.

Elliot slurps his coffee and sighs in appreciation. “Back to your station, Captain Certain,” he says, happily absorbing the heat of his mug into his hands.

“Aye, aye, Your Highness.” 

“We were thinking maybe we’ll take a slow day today?” Nicholas says to Elliot after they finish cooking. “We can have a leisurely breakfast here before heading onto the theme park.”

Elliot pauses from drizzling his french toast and bacon in maple syrup. “What? No, this is going to be a quick brekky, then we go.”

“Nothing about the way your three toasts are stacked looks like a ‘quick brekky’,” Jonah notes, eyeing Elliot’s plate.

“I need a filling brunch before we head out,” Elliot says impatiently, because this is basic in traveling, you have to have a heavy meal that’ll carry you throughout the entire day. 

“And that filling brunch can take more than ten minutes,” Nicholas says soothingly and proceeds to cut through his french toast _leisurely_.

Elliot shoves a big square of toast into his mouth. “We have a full schedule today,” he says around his mouthful.

“Seeing you try to chew french toast as big as your hand is not really convincing me to make this a grab-and-go kind of brunch,” Jonah says, calmly sipping his coffee.

“Elliot,” Nicholas says just as Elliot opens his mouth to reply. “Can’t we slow down a bit? I’m sure we can miss the opening hour of… where are we going today?”

Elliot resists the urge to cross his arms over his chest, because he’s a mature adult and he’s above such things. “Disney’s Hollywood Studios,” he says, poking his bacon with the fork.

He jumps when he feels Nicholas’ foot poke at his socked ankle under the table. “Come on,” Nicholas says softly with a smile. “Turn that frown upside down.”

Elliot rolls his eyes, but pokes Nicholas’ foot back. “I’m not frowning,” he denies, and eats more toast. Then he sighs heavily. “I _guess_ we can adjust the sched, if you guys really want more time this morning.”

“Great,” Jonah says with a wide dimpled smile, his dark eyes flashing. 

Elliot looks away from Jonah and commiserates by himself into his coffee, already thinking of the activities he needs to move around and cancel.

“And hey,” Jonah adds, his voice smooth and low. Elliot’s not sure if Jonah’s purposefully doing that thing with his voice. Knowing Jonah, he probably is. “Maybe you can share with us your plans for today?” 

Elliot blinks. “What, so you can run roughshod over all my ideas?”

“Elliot,” Nicholas says reprovingly.

“But that’s what he’ll do!” 

“If by ‘run roughshod’ you mean making sure Nicholas and I have a say on whether we’d like to do the activities, then yes, I suppose,” Jonah says mildly.

“Right. Elliot,” Nicholas says hesitantly. “I loved the skit we did yesterday. But maybe we can be a little more low-key today?”

“Yes, of course,” Elliot assures, mentally crossing off stage performances in his head. 

“Also,” Nicholas adds, slowly swirling the leftover syrup on his plate with his fork. “I was wondering if we could go home early? Maybe we can have dinner here at the house?”

Elliot frowns. “Why, did you need to send an email or something?”

Nicholas shakes his head. “No, I just...” He smiles. “Just wanted a little quiet with you guys.”

Elliot glances at Jonah, who’s looking at Nicholas with an unfathomable expression. “Okay,” Elliot says soothingly. Nicholas is the best friend and the best shenanigans partner. But sometimes he needs a break from that, which is something Elliot can understand even if he doesn’t feel that way himself. Elliot knows he can be a bit much sometimes. “Okay. Today is going to be chill.”

At that, Jonah makes a low sound of amusement. “We’ll see about that.”

“Please,” Elliot scoffs. “I bet you already know what kind of Easter egg-colored suit you’ll wear today.”

Jonah tilts his head, strands of his hair falling over his forehead. “Do you want me to wear an Easter egg-colored suit?”

“I want to enjoy my coffee in peace,” Elliot says, sipping from his mug pointedly.

Nicholas leans forward, grinning at Jonah with his chin propped up on his fist. “ _Are_ you wearing a suit?” He asks.

“Maybe,” Jonah says demurely, and looks down at his plate, smiling coyly, his hair covering his eyes. Elliot bets he practices that look in the mirror, like the Ac-Tor he is. 

After they clear the table, they settle on the couch in the living room, with Elliot in the middle of Nicholas and Jonah like usual. The couch definitely isn’t as comfortable or as stuffed as the one they own back home, and when Elliot shares this, he’s pleased when both his roommates agree with him. 

Elliot is leaning sleepily against Nicholas’ shoulder when Nicholas asks Jonah if he could make chocolate souffle and Jonah readily responds with, what about chocolate chip pancakes instead?

And Elliot is hit with the yearning to stay in this moment forever, or at least figure out how to go back to this time again and again: in this sun-soaked living room, with music playing in the background while the three of them talk about nothing and everything.

“Both sound delicious,” Elliot murmurs, eyes closing as Nicholas cards his fingers in Elliot’s hair. It’s so soothing, it makes Elliot shiver and lean closer. Elliot can still smell the sugar and cinnamon on Nicholas’ shirt, and the prevalent scent of smoke from the cigarette he had this morning. 

Nicholas pauses for a moment then resumes petting Elliot’s hair when Elliot makes a discontented sound. “Yeah, they do, don’t they?” Nicholas says quietly.

“I’ll be the taste tester,” Elliot says, curling his legs up and making sure to obnoxiously bump Jonah’s hip with his socked feet. “We could make it like, spicy chocolate if we add paprika.”

Nicholas laughs. “What is with you and paprika?”

“I told you, it gives flavor,” Elliot says staunchly. Then he almost jumps when he sees that Jonah’s studying him. 

“We’ll need to buy ramekins,” Jonah says, looking at Nicholas.

“What are those?” Nicholas asks.

“I’ll be the one buying them,” Elliot says confidently. “God knows what you two will buy.”

“It’s a small ceramic bowl,” Jonah tells Nicholas. Then he turns to Elliot and says, in a much dryer tone, “Ramekins usually come in white, Elliot, there’s not much that can go wrong with whatever we buy.”

“How do you know about ramekins?” Nicholas asks Elliot. “You don’t even bake.”

Elliot huffs and leans closer, until his cheek is on top of Nicholas’ shoulder. “It’s called Youtube, Nicholas.”

“All right, you social media baby.” Nicholas’ shoulder is shaking from laughter.

Elliot sputters and sits up. “That was _not_ how I said it!”

“You’ll always be the social media guru, don’t worry,” Jonah assures, looking amused.

Elliot huffs and fishes out his phone instead. He tunes out Nicholas and Jonah and checks his feed on Instagram.

He hasn’t posted anything from their excursion yesterday except for his photo of the evening fireworks. It was a pretty good photo, if he says so himself. In the foreground, Nicholas' and Jonah's silhouettes are outlined in the dark while they watch the gold sparks of fireworks lighting up Cinderella’s blue-capped white castle. More than a hundred people have already liked it, and Caroline, Jane, and some of their other friends have left comments.

“I wonder what put such a big smile on your face,” Nicholas says.

Elliot looks up from where he’s leaning against Nicholas’ shoulder and shows him the photo. Nicholas makes a soft noise and taps on the photo to zoom in on him and Jonah. “Your profile creates a very sharp silhouette,” Elliot says to Nicholas. Then in a louder voice, he adds, “The only photogenic thing about Jonah is his back, on the other hand.”

“People _have_ said that my derriere is one of my best assets, it’s true,” Jonah responds, without looking up from his phone.

“It’s right up there with your dimple, I think,” Nicholas says cheerfully.

“You have to get past his hair before you even see his dimple,” Elliot mutters to himself.

That is, of course, when Jonah looks up and then looks at him. On cue, his stupid, perfect hair falls over his brow. Then he smiles, showcasing that stupid, perfect dimple. It’s such a smooth move, Elliot can only assume Jonah did it on purpose to mock him.

“Elliot, I didn’t know you cared,” Jonah says in a sincere voice that barely suppressed laughter.

“I don’t,” Elliot insists, looking back down at his phone. He feels a little better when he gets a notif that Nicholas liked his fireworks photo.

Out of curiosity, he clicks on Nicholas’ profile. Nicholas doesn’t post as much on social media, but sometimes he uploads a few photos here and there of everyone from Blake’s weekly-monthly parties and their nights out at Deep Ellum or Hong Kong. On top of his feed, there are three new posts: a photo of the castle when they first arrived, the morning light shining across the white towers and the people walking around still happy and fresh; a photo of Disney characters waving and smiling; and a short video clip of Elliot, Jonah, and the royalty makers in Fairytale Garden. Predictably, Nicholas only included a caption for the last post: _Who’s lucky enough to get a charming prince AND a dashing captain all in one fairytale?_

Elliot smiles at that and leans against Nicholas even closer until Nicholas puts an arm around his shoulder. He clicks a like on all three posts, then notices that Jonah had commented on the video.

_We wouldn’t have gotten that happy ending without our knight in shining armor._

Elliot rolls his eyes. “I’m taking first shower,” he announces and gets up from the sofa. “By the time I get out, you guys should be getting ready too.”

On his way to the shower, Elliot catches sight of his reflection in the mirror over the sink. There’s a furrow between his brows that makes him consciously try to relax his face. And his nose and cheeks are red from the sun yesterday. 

Elliot takes a deep breath, and says to his reflection, “Today is going to be an amazing day.” A day where he makes Nicholas laugh with delight and Jonah speechless with amazement. He smiles at himself before heading to the shower, whistling _Hakuna Matata_ because it’s summer, and they all deserve a day, if not the rest of their days, with no worries.

Elliot goes back to the living room while Nicholas and Jonah get ready, and after looking around to make sure none of them are wandering around the vicinity, Elliot takes out his phone and looks at Jonah’s profile on Instagram.

Jonah likes to make his feed look as artsy as possible, because his photos are usually black and white, except for the pops of color from posts about special occasions, like when it’s opening night on one of his plays.

There’s only one new photo, and Elliot doesn’t even remember Jonah taking pictures of Cinderella’s Wishing Well. The arching bronze trellis of the well shines golden in the photo, backdropped by the blue sky and lush trees.

 _Make a wish,_ the caption says.

“What a drama queen,” Elliot says under his breath, his brows rising to his hairline. 

“Did you say something?” 

Elliot clicks his phone close as Nicholas walks nearer to him. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt with a drawn suit and tie at the front and that patented Nicholas blazer with elbow patches, his messenger bag slung across his chest. His hair is still wet, the strands slick against his skin, but Nicholas is already holding his bucket hat in one hand, like he’s getting ready to wear it once they’re outside. He looks completely comfortable and confident in himself, and Elliot feels something twist in his chest.

“You look great,” Elliot says sincerely. Then he clears his throat and says in a lighter voice, “Thought you didn’t always wear blazers?” 

Nicholas smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Figured I should clean up nice, since we’re going to Hollywood,” he jokes.

“Then hopefully I’ll fit right in.”

And Elliot doesn’t want to, but he reluctantly turns his head towards Jonah’s voice.

Jonah is fixing the black cuffs of his burgundy smoking jacket, his hair an artfully messy quiff, so different from the untamed waves of earlier. Elliot swallows past the dryness in his throat when he sees that Jonah’s white dress shirt has the first three buttons unbuttoned, the bronze of his neck and collarbone peeking through. 

“Wow,” Nicholas says, sounding hoarse, and staring at Jonah with wide eyes. “Jonah, you look...”

“Kind of over the top, wouldn’t you say?” Elliot continues for Nicholas, and goes back to scrolling blindly through his phone. “Aren’t you going to suffocate from the heat with all those layers?”

“I can take off layers, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Elliot feels himself blushing, and dimly hears Nicholas choking in the background. “I’d prefer you stop dressing like you’re about to go on a Victorian set playing as a wannabe Oscar Wilde, but we can’t always get what we want."

“Your concern is noted, though,” Jonah continues as if Elliot hadn’t spoken, even while Nicholas is outright laughing now. “This is the second time someone has mentioned I might be too hot to handle.”

Elliot unthinkingly snaps out, “Who said that?” the same time Nicholas says, “That’s not what I said!”

For a moment, Elliot and Nicholas blink at each other, before Nicholas laughs again. “To be fair, you did look hot,” Nicholas allows, which Elliot is just flabbergasted by. “But mostly I was concerned with how many layers you were wearing too.”

Jonah winks at them, before smoothing down the lapels of his jacket over his chest, and Elliot has to look away from him again. “That’s why you guys are the best roommates ever,” Jonah says. “I’ll meet you both outside.”

When Jonah leaves, Elliot turns to Nicholas, and all he can come up with is: “You think Jonah is hot?”

Nicholas’ expression becomes serious, tilting his head to the side in an uncanny move like Jonah does sometimes. “Don’t you?” Nicholas asks.

“Jonah is… Jonah,” Elliot answers lamely.

Nicholas gives him a look. “That about sums it up,” he says, then he takes Elliot’s hand and squeezes it. “Come on, I think the Lyft he called is here.”

There’s a lot of people in Disney’s Hollywood Studios by the time they arrive, but that’s no surprise since they didn’t go inside during opening as Elliot had planned. At least the crowds are pretty manageable, compared to the multitudes of people in Magic Kingdom. 

Their first stop was The Great Movie Ride at Hollywood Boulevard, which Elliot is already dubious about — who capitalizes the word “the” for rides? But it seemed wrong to not do one of the top attractions in the theme park. And at least it’ll give them more fodder for why Disney is the worst.

After Jonah and Nicholas take a zillion photos of the Chinese theatre facade, they go through the winding lines inside, until Jonah makes them stop _again_ to take photos of the displays of costumes and props and set pieces from different films.

Then suddenly, two giggling girls approach them, saying to Jonah, “Hi, can we take a picture with you?”

Elliot stares as Jonah smiles at them charmingly. “I’m afraid I’m not one of the Disney characters,” he says.

“Oh, even better,” one of them _purrs_.

“We actually have to go, our passes are scheduled for the next ride,” Elliot informs her politely.

“Oh, we’ll be quick, I promise!” Then she dismisses Elliot and turns to Jonah with a blinding smile, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Jonah says, and proceeds to take pictures with them.

“You know you’re making these little sounds of outrage out loud right?” Nicholas says in his ear as the two girls take turns getting photos with Jonah. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elliot says. Then in a louder voice: “Okay, we need to go, our fastpasses are scheduled for _right now._ ”

After Jonah schmoozes some more and exchanges IG handles with them, they finally keep moving on the loading station where they hop onto the big trams. Elliot can’t help feel vindicated when the two giggling girls are separated into the next one, away from the three of them. Heaven knows Elliot won't be able to concentrate on the films if they kept flirting with Jonah.

Their trams move into a dark room, where they’re greeted by a pyramid of audio-animatronic chorus girls from _Footlight Parade_ , which was fairly promising. But after a musical scene from _Singin' in the Rain_ where Gene Kelly is jauntily swinging from the lamp post, they ended with ‘Chim Cher-ee’ from _Mary Poppins_ before moving through the “gangster” genre films.

“What’s wrong?” Nicholas whispers.

Elliot looks up at him. “What?”

Nicholas’ lips twitched, his profile shadowed from the darkness of the room and the light of the animatronics. “You were making those sounds again,” Nicholas says helpfully.

“It’s just,” Elliot gestures at the screen/stage in front of them, where Tom Powers from _Public Enemy_ was talking. “The film selections are woefully inadequate, aren’t they?”

Jonah looks at him curiously. “What would you have added?”

“Maybe ‘The Jazz Singer’ by Crosland to start the musical film genre,” Elliot says with a shrug. “It’s the first feature-length film, and it’s known as one of the pioneers for sound films.”

“‘Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain't heard nothin' yet!’” Jonah says, his voice mimicking Jack Robin’s voice. 

Elliot blinks, surprised that Jonah knows the film, even though he shouldn’t be by now. Jonah always seems to know what Elliot’s talking about. 

Then Jonah leans forward and continues in his normal voice, “But just because you’re the first, doesn’t mean you’re the best or that you’re great, which is what this ride is trying to highlight.”

“Right, but sometimes that’s not the case. Crosland’s film had speaking sequences, singing numbers, _and_ a musical score. That’s a pretty daring feat, considering that the silent film era was still prolific at the time,” Elliot explains. “Also, would _you_ consider ‘Mary Poppins’ one of the greats? Honestly.”

Jonah hums, staring at Elliot with amusement. And it’s only then that Elliot realizes how close he and Jonah are leaning towards each other, their faces inches apart in the dark.

And Elliot is sure he and Jonah have been in a similar situation a million times, they’re roommates, not to mention classmates in majority of Elliot’s theatre classes. Surely they’ve sat closely together in a dark room before.

But this feels different, Elliot thinks, as he and Jonah continue to look at each other wordlessly. Everything is sharper and in focus. Elliot is acutely aware of how his shoulders are pressed tightly against Nicholas’ and Jonah’s on both sides, how Elliot can feel the heat of their skin through all their layers of clothes, how Jonah’s fingers are resting by the seat, just inches away from Elliot’s thigh.

They’ve been quiet for too long, the silence stretched taut between them, but Elliot can’t stop staring at Jonah, at the way Jonah is looking at him. Dimly, Elliot wonders if this is how Jonah lures in all his one-night stands: just pin them with a Dark, Mysterious, Brooding Stare and pretend they’re the only thing that matters in his entire universe.

“Hey, I think it’s one of the greats,” Nicholas chimes in, and thankfully breaks the spell.

Elliot twists around to face Nicholas. “You poor soul,” he says sympathetically and pats Nicholas’ cheek softly. “We are going to watch so many better musical films.” 

“There _are_ many better musical films, but I do agree with Nicholas that objectively, ‘Mary Poppins’ may be high up there,” Jonah says. “It does a stellar combination of live-acting and animation for its time, plus the songs are great.”

Elliot turns back to Jonah reluctantly, because he can’t let a comment like _the songs are great_ pass without explanation, when the most popular song in the movie is one with a nonsensical word. Besides, they’ve moved past gangster films to “western” cowboy ones. How is there no noir film genre in this ride? 

So Elliot spends the rest of the time arguing with Jonah while telling Nicholas about the films the three of them need to watch after this, if only to reestablish all that was right in the world, and convincing both of them that _Notorious_ by Hitchcock should be one of the top choices in a hypothetical noir film genre. Mostly because Hitchcock managed to work around the Hays Code with his iconic kissing scene (which Elliot doesn’t say to either of them), but also because the themes, while transparent, were well-incorporated into the sophisticated cinematography (which Elliot enthusiastically tells them).

They discuss films until the ride finishes and while they walk to Echo Lake for the _Frozen_ Sing-Along. Then Elliot stops mid-sentence when the auditorium goes dark and the stage lights up. The skit is fairly standard: two “historians of Arendelle” tell the tale of Elsa and Anna, flashing scenes on the screen and summarizing the story in between playing the popular soundtracks with actual lyrics.

Elliot laughs out loud when he hears Nicholas sing “Do you want to build a snowman?” with the rest of the seven year olds in the room. 

“Are you crying, Nicholas?” Jonah asks, his voice filled with laughter.

“No,” Nicholas denies, tugging his bucket hat lower over his face. “There was something in my eye.”

But when _Love Is An Open Door_ starts playing though, Elliot catches himself mouthing the lyrics and stops. 

“You know, you can sing if you want,” Jonah says without looking at Elliot, just as Anna and Hans start singing about their mental synchronization.

“You’re going to sing ‘Let It Go’ aren’t you?” Elliot accuses him.

Jonah turns to him. “This _is_ a sing-along event, Elliot.”

“Then why aren’t you singing along now?”

Jonah tilts his head. “It’s a duet. I need to sing it with a partner.”

Elliot flushes. “You can sing with the rest of the crowd, why do you have to have a partner?”

Nicholas leans beside him. “You guys can sing together, I bet you’ll both sound great,” he says brightly.

“I think so, too,” Jonah says softly. “We’ve always worked well together, haven’t we, Elliot?”

Elliot is caught off guard by the question and the sincerity in Jonah’s voice. “I,” Elliot says stupidly. “Yes. For school projects and assignments, I suppose.”

Jonah makes a little noise. “Between the two of us, we’ve definitely accomplished more than school projects and assignments, wouldn’t you say?” He asks in amusement.

Elliot stops at that, suddenly remembering all the times Jonah was inexplicably but undeniably his shenanigans partner, like when Jonah gamely helped him set up the Cryptid Scavenger Hunt in the theatre department last Halloween; or the time Elliot decided to make hand painted flashcards for Nicholas’ biochemistry class and Jonah, after seeing Elliot splattered in paint in their living room during the middle of the night, sat down and started painting with him; or how Elliot always bounces ideas and opinions off Jonah whenever Elliot is stuck with a term paper, in discussions that go on endlessly, until the gears in Elliot’s mind are turning furiously again.

Elliot stares at Jonah uncertainly, at the light in his eyes and the soft smile on his face, and he wonders if he’s had it wrong all this time. He’s always thought that whenever Jonah talked to him, he was mocking Elliot or making fun of him in some way.

“Oh, look,” Jonah says dryly while Elliot comes up with something to say. “The song’s done. I suppose I’m singing ‘Let It Go’ after all.”

And Jonah does, his passable baritone standing out from the crowd.

When the Elsa actress cheerfully chirps, “I think we have time for one more song!” Elliot is not surprised when _Let It Go_ starts playing again, and this time Nicholas, Jonah, and everyone’s mother sing along while silver confetti sprinkles down the room.

“Come on Elliot, let it go,” Nicholas says bumping shoulders with him, while they leave the auditorium.

“It’s just,” Elliot throws his hands up in the air. “That song is so overrated isn’t it? Every six year old from here to Canada just _loves that song_.”

“Well, it is one of the best Disney power ballads to be released in years,” Jonah points out.

Elliot looks at him in horror. “Don’t tell me you’re Team Let It Go too?”

Jonah laughs. “I wouldn’t put it that way but,” Jonah shrugs. “It’s about Elsa taking control of her life, her powers, and being who she wants to be. And it’s a pretty good power song.”

“It’s very you,” Nicholas says softly. Then he glances at Elliot with a crooked smile. “I’m guessing you’re not Team Let It Go?”

“I’m Team Love Is An Open Door, obviously,” Elliot answers. “The song in its context is very ironic, considering that the characters aren’t truly in love with each other. And the harmonies and back-and-forth between Anna and Hans are more obviously reminiscent of revue songs. Which I appreciate.”

“But the lyrics are very uninspired compared to Elsa’s ballad,” Jonah interjects, looking at Elliot. “And I think you’re willfully overlooking the fact that the range of ‘Let It Go’ fully maximized Idina’s mezzo soprano on both the low and high ends.”

“Right, but the rest of the instruments are overpowered by the heavy-handed piano,” Elliot shoots back. “In ‘Love Is An Open Door’ you get an interesting playfulness in the instrumentation, which we rarely hear anymore because of tracks like ‘Let It Go.’ Because people prefer songs with idiot-proof melodies over complex musical arrangements, that’s just a sad fact of life.”

Jonah stares at Elliot, a strange smile curling his lips, his eyes still dark. 

Elliot flushes and looks away. 

“What about you, Nicholas, what team are you on?” Jonah asks.

“I’m batting for ‘Fixer Upper’ so I’m kind of upset they didn’t play it,” Nicholas says with a laugh. “But it’s nice to learn about both your favorites.”

Elliot looks at Nicholas affectionately. “You _would_ like that song.”

Nicholas shrugs. “The love doctor trolls were legit.” 

They take a few more photos, especially when Elsa and Anna come out of the auditorium. They aren’t able to get close-ups, because of all the kids fighting their way to the photo op spot. And even though Elliot insists he can find a way for them to get to the front, Nicholas and Jonah convince him that they should have lunch at the diner.

Going inside the 50’s Prime Time Café is like stepping into a Hollywood movie set: everything feels staged and fake. Kitschy memorabilia line the flowery wallpapers of the restaurant and, in one corner, there’s a TV table playing clips from popular sitcoms during the 1950s. Waitstaff in themed uniforms walk along the black and white tiled floors with trays of food and a big smile.

Once their orders arrive, they settle back in their seats, Nicholas beside Elliot and Jonah across the table. They talk about school and work while munching on onion rings. But their conversation delves back into Disney songs when Nicholas offhandedly asks what other popular power ballads have been released this decade. 

Elliot and Jonah look at each other before they both shrug. “I’ll be honest, most, if not all, of the good ones are from the nineties. ‘If I Can’t Love Her’ comes to mind,” Jonah answers.

Elliot raises an eyebrow. “Does that count, though?” He asks while taking another onion ring.

“It’s still Disney,” Jonah points out.

“Well, in that case, I’m special-mentioning ‘Proud of Your Boy’,” Elliot says. 

Jonah pauses mid-bite of his chicken pot pie. “That’s an interesting choice,” he murmurs.

Nicholas leans forward. “What do you mean?” He asks, voicing out Elliot’s thoughts.

To Elliot’s horror, Jonah starts singing one of the verses in a soft but steady voice. “ _Tell me that I've been a louse and loafer. You won't get a fight here, no ma'am. Say I'm a goldbrick, a goof-off, no good. But that couldn't be all that I am._ ”

Elliot shoves some meatloaf in his mouth, partly so he can think of what to respond, and partly so that he has something to do aside from look back at Jonah.

“Oh,” Nicholas says, laughing softly. “I see.”

Elliot is too busy eating, so he doesn’t ask what, exactly, Nicholas sees. It’s probably not important, like, it’s just a great song, why does Jonah have to put _meaning_ to a simple song choice?

Then Nicholas leans against Elliot. “You guys always know the most obscure musical and theatre references,” he says fondly.

“It’s ‘Aladdin’, Nicholas, it’s not that obscure,” Elliot says around his mouthful, and steals a spoonful of mashed potatoes from Nicholas for good measure.

“Yeah, but you probably chose the least known song from the entire musical,” Nicholas points out, laughing. “I mean, dare I ask if you even have opinions about stuff like... I don’t know, ‘High School Musical’?”

“That is a very specific example,” Jonah points out amusedly while Elliot furiously chews the last of his meatloaf so he can start talking.

“Let’s be honest, didn’t we all grow up to High School Musical when we were in high school?” Nicholas says. “I think for a while I wanted to be just like Troy Bolton before I realized I didn’t have the hand-eye coordination to be a basketball player. Or a dancer.”

Elliot stares at Nicholas, unable to keep a smile from his face. “I bet you crushed on Gabriella, too,” he says teasingly, his smile widening when Nicholas looks at him. He’s still wearing his bucket hat, which Elliot adores endlessly. “The smart and musically talented science girl.”

“I think Sharpay’s more my type, looking back,” Nicholas says easily. 

“Equally as talented, if not more, as Gabriella and twice as prickly,” Jonah notes with a strange smile on his face.

“You probably wanted to _be_ Sharpay,” Elliot throws back at Jonah.

“I definitely sang ‘Bop to the Top’ endlessly after I watched the first movie, yes,” Jonah admits shamelessly. 

Elliot frowns at him while Nicholas gently bumps shoulders with him. “How about you, Elliot, who was your favorite character?”

“It doesn’t matter who I liked,” Elliot says airily, ignoring how Jonah is staring at him knowingly. “Because the last movie was Problematic.”

“Oh dear,” Jonah murmurs, swiping a slice of pot roast from Nicholas’ plate while Nicholas gets a forkful of Jonah’s pie.

“Really?” Nicholas asks, his brow furrowing. “I thought it was a great way to end the franchise, actually.”

“Oh, the songs were all right, as far as High School Musical songs go. That’s not in question. And I’m not even touching the fact that the whole premise of the movie is a _musical within a musical_ ,” Elliot says disdainfully. “My main issue is how they resolved Troy’s conflict as a character.”

Nicholas turns more fully to him, his knee bumping against Elliot’s. “So you do have opinions about High School Musical,” Nicholas says fondly. 

“How many times have you watched the movies, exactly?” Jonah wants to know with a raised eyebrow.

“Enough to know that it’s unrealistic for Troy Bolton to have his cake and eat it too,” Elliot says. “Not only is he going to a university where he can stay close to his high school sweetheart, but he’s also going to take up theatre while simultaneously keep playing college basketball?”

“But that’s been the theme throughout all three movies,” Jonah says, his eyes boring into Elliot’s as he leans forward. “Breaking free from self-imposed limitations and societal expectations. Like Troy said, there’s not a star in heaven they can’t reach.”

“Right, and the natural progression of that would have been for Troy to realize his true love is theatre,” Elliot points out. “That, or he realizes it’s just a hobby, an extracurricular activity he can include for his portfolio, before he becomes more serious with impressing college scouts for basketball. He doesn’t _get to have both._ ” 

“Why not?”

Elliot glances up at Nicholas, taken aback by how intently Nicholas is looking at him. “Because,” he says, trying to recall as his arguments. “How would that even work? Troy would have his daily workout regimen in the early morning, have classes throughout the day, then basketball practice with his team in the afternoon, before going to rehearsals in the evening? That’s not even taking into account his class requirements and projects. He might as well say goodbye to his social life and breakup with Gabriella.”

“I think he can make it work,” Nicholas says slowly, his eyes a warm weight on Elliot’s skin. “Troy had his moments of doubt, but he always, always went after what he wanted in the end and succeeded in everything he did. Not saying it won’t take a lot of work and responsibility, but if he really loves both and wants to make it work, he’ll do his best. And that’s all anyone can ask for, right?”

There is a lump in Elliot’s throat and a funny constricting in his chest, even though he’s not sure why exactly he feels this way. “But even if he does somehow jump through all those hoops for four years in college, he’ll still eventually have to choose one to pursue as a career.”

“Who’s to say that Troy won’t be the first theatre actor-slash-basketball player that successfully does both?” Jonah asks, a fervent light in his dark eyes. “And even if he has to choose one for his career, who’s to say he has to stop doing the other?”

Elliot stares at both of them, the anticipatory way they’re looking back at Elliot as they wait for him to respond. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he blurts. He waits for Nicholas to let him pass through the booth before walking to the restroom. 

Elliot mechanically washes his hands, avoids looking at his reflection, and takes a deep breath. Then another. And another. Just until the pounding of his heart is less so loud.

When he’s finally able to look at himself in the mirror, Elliot nods and goes back out.

Jonah is standing by the table, waiting for him. “Nicholas wanted to look at possible souvenirs for his kids,” he explains. “Shall we?”

“Oh,” Elliot says dazedly. “I should just. I’ll just pay for the bill, I’ll meet you outside.”

“Already taken care of,” Jonah says, lightly placing a hand over Elliot’s elbow and starts steering him out of the restaurant. 

And Elliot realizes how pointless the small reprieve he granted himself was, because now his thoughts are whirling more intensely in inarticulate circles. As he and Jonah walk quietly side by side, all Elliot can think about is their stupid conversation about Troy Bolton.

“Wurtzie recommended my proposal to the guild for an off-campus prod,” Elliot finally says, looking down at the ground.

He doesn’t realize Jonah is still touching him until Jonah squeezes his arm gently. “I know,” Jonah says softly. “Congratulations, Elliot.”

Elliot swallows. Jonah always knows, and maybe that’s why Elliot is telling him. Because the only one who knows him better than Nicholas, is... Jonah, odd as that seems. “But I don’t know what that would mean,” Elliot says plaintively. 

Jonah stops walking, so Elliot stops too. And then he’s caught by the light in Jonah’s eyes. “It means you’re going to keep amazing our directorial professors and impress the theatre guild with whatever you put out.”

Elliot feels himself blush. “It’s so stupid, like even before I sent my proposal, I just...” Elliot swallows, feeling conscious of how Jonah is looking at him. “I already knew how I’d stage ‘The Iceman Cometh’ in my mind.”

Jonah huffs out a laugh, his left dimple reappearing and staying, as he smiles at Elliot. “Of course you want to use ‘The Iceman Cometh’ for your directorial debut,” he murmurs.

“You know it’s perfect. I’m only upset they won’t let me do the five-hour long version,” Elliot says, grinning. Then he sighs. “But… what’s even the point? It’s our senior year, it’s not like it can go anywhere.”

Jonah studies Elliot, his hand still on Elliot’s arm, while both of them stand in the middle of the sidewalk.

“So you’re not considering pursuing an MFA in directing?” Jonah asks carefully.

“I don’t…” Elliot trails off, not knowing what to say, and feeling embarrassed about it, because it’s going to become even more apparent to Jonah that Elliot has no idea what he’s talking about. “I only have a minor in theatre, anyway. And I love what I’m doing right now, I love social media, I love that I’m being paid an insane amount for doing something I’m good at. And I haven’t _even graduated yet_.”

“But you also love directing, you love theatre, you love obscure plays and films,” Jonah says, still in that terribly soft, compelling voice. “And who’s to say you can’t have both, Troy Bolton?” 

“Societal expectations?” Elliot answers weakly.

“Elliot.” Jonah’s lips curl into a smile, but there’s no dimple this time, and Elliot doesn’t know why he’s so upset about that. “You’ve spent the last three years in Emerson smashing through societal expectations and questioning authorial decisions.”

“About _literature and films,_ ” Elliot says. “Not real life!”

Jonah tilts his head to the side. “Do you really believe that?” Jonah asks. When Elliot just stares at him, he continues, “If not, then you should consider that maybe the only thing standing in your way is yourself.”

“It’s so easy for you to say that,” he says defensively, feeling like he’s being dissected under Jonah’s gaze. “You have your life together, you’ve always known what you want.” 

Jonah laughs at that, for some reason. “And you don’t have to choose between the two, Elliot,” Jonah says, still smiling that non-dimple smile. “You just have to decide if you want both of them enough to work for it.”

“What if,” Elliot says with difficulty. “What if I don’t? Deserve both, that is.”

Jonah looks somber now, his hand sliding down from Elliot’s elbow to his wrist. “I think you deserve every happiness in the world,” he says quietly. Elliot’s breath catches when Jonah’s thumb brushes over the back of Elliot’s hand briefly, before pulling away.

Elliot stares up at Jonah helplessly, feeling a myriad of emotions in the pit of his stomach. At the forefront of it all is an overwhelming guilt for how horribly he’s treated Jonah the entire trip, the entire time they’ve been roommates even, when Jonah hadn’t been horrible at all. 

“I’m sorry,” Elliot says, the words sharp against his throat. “For not being a better friend to you, when you’ve been nothing but the best friend to me and Nicholas.”

Jonah’s expression softens. “I wonder,” he says carefully. “If you’ve ever asked yourself why.”

Elliot swallows. “I think I’ve always been a little bit envious,” Elliot says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You always seem so far ahead of us, even though we’re nearly the same age. And I guess I always thought you were making fun of me, for how ridiculous I must seem to you.”

“Elliot,” Jonah says, and Elliot looks up at the emotion in Jonah’s voice. He is entranced by the expression on Jonah’s face. “I have never, in all the years we've known each other, ever made fun of you.” 

They are not touching. But the distance between them seems almost inconsequential, with how Jonah’s eyes on Elliot felt like a caress over his skin. And Elliot, to his dawning horror, has to hold back the urge to reach up and cup Jonah’s face in his hands.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you guys,” Nicholas says, coming up behind Elliot. Then he glances between Elliot and Jonah. “Sorry, did I… interrupt something?”

Before Elliot can answer, Jonah clears his throat and says, “Just more talk about Troy Bolton. Which we can continue later on, if Elliot feels so inclined.”

“Okay,” Nicholas says, the same time Elliot bursts out with, “Definitely not.”

Both of them laugh at that, and Elliot feels relieved that nothing seems irreparably broken or changed for the worse. 

“Come on, I found a bunch of performers on the street just across the main boulevard,” Nicholas says, taking Elliot’s hand and squeezing. “You guys will love it.”

Elliot takes Jonah’s hand in turn as Nicholas starts pulling him towards Sunset Boulevard, where, true enough, a troupe of entertainers in glamorous costumes are performing different Disney songs. Some of them are playing saxophones and guitars, a few couples are dancing and a few more are singing along with several civilians.

After they finish a passably jazzy enough rendition of ‘When We’re Human’ from _Princess and The Frog,_ one of the performers starts walking back and forth around the gathered crowd.

“All right, folks,” she says with a grin. “It’s almost sunset in Sunset Boulevard, who’s up for singing a duet with yours truly? Volunteer gets song pick! Disney, of course.”

Elliot jumps when he hears Nicholas’ voice beside him. “I do.”

“You’re singing?” Elliot asks, trying to peer through the brim of Nicholas’ hat to see his eyes. 

Nicholas glances at him, and Elliot is caught off guard again by how Nicholas is looking at him. “I promise I won’t embarrass you,” Nicholas says gravely, his lips quirked up.

“You can never embarrass me,” Elliot says, and it sounds more serious than teasing and lighthearted, which was what he was going for.

Nicholas steps forward, and Elliot steps back until he bumps into Jonah’s chest. And his heart starts pounding again as Nicholas stares at him, in a way that is both familiar and not.

“I know,” Nicholas says softly, squeezing his hand, before pulling away and walking up to the Disney performer.

“All right, we got ourselves a dashing volunteer!” she says, clapping for Nicholas until everyone is applauding. “What’s your name? I love your hat, by the way.”

“I’m Nicholas,” Nicholas says, tipping the brim of his hat charmingly. And Elliot feels something twist in his chest at his next words. “And my very best friend got it for me.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” she exclaims. “So what do you want to sing today?”

“I haven’t memorized it, but I do have the lyrics for the song,” Nicholas says, waving his phone up as if to prove he had the lyrics. “It’s ‘I See the Light’ from Tangled.”

“Ah, perfect,” she says, winking at Nicholas. “Just in time for sunset.” 

The Disney performer starts off with Rapunzel’s verse, her voice soft and lilting as she sings about how blind she’s been. Meanwhile, Nicholas is studiously looking down at his phone and the only thing Elliot can see is the top of his hat with the small embroidered designs of their favorite spices.

And Elliot doesn’t realize he’s about to step forward towards Nicholas — to do what, he doesn’t know — until he’s pulled back by Jonah’s hand still clasped in his. 

“Jonah,” Elliot blurts. And Jonah transfers his gaze from Nicholas to Elliot. “Nicholas is… We need to…”

Jonah tips his chin forward, his lips curling. “He’s fine, look,” he murmurs.

And Elliot looks. And then he feels that twisting again, that feeling where he’s both breathless with anticipation and terror.

“ _All those years living in a blur,_ ” Nicholas sings, looking straight at them. “ _All that time never truly seeing things, the way they were._ ”

Elliot dimly feels himself digging his fingernails into Jonah’s hand, but he can’t look away from Nicholas, Nicholas who never ever performs at the Hong Kong; Nicholas who prefers to watch and spectate while they all make fools of themselves; Nicholas whom Elliot had to drag yesterday to get him to sing _one line repeatedly_ _._

“ _And it's warm and real and bright. And the world has somehow shifted_ ,” Nicholas sings, his voice achingly soft yet steady. “ _All at once everything is different, now that I see you_.”

Then the song ends, the strumming of the guitar fading in the background. But everything seems muted somehow, his eyes still locked on Nicholas, who is looking back at him even as the crowd applauded him, and it’s almost like seeing him for the first time.

And it’s all just made worse when he hears Jonah’s voice in his ear, so intimately close, “Elliot...”

The realization doesn’t hit like a sledgehammer; it’s like a slow unfurling of awareness, as if the knowledge has always been there, just tucked away in the most hidden corner of Elliot’s mind. It’s quickly followed by Elliot’s own dismay and thought of how he’s been _such a fool_. 

The impossibility of being in love with both Jonah and Nicholas is too much to bear.

Elliot yanks his hand away from Jonah’s and steps back, and steps back, until he’s walking backwards. “I need to,” Elliot says weakly, unable to look at Jonah or at Nicholas. “I’ll be back.”

“Elliot.”

Elliot turns away. “Give me five minutes,” he calls out.

He doesn’t go far, just crouches down in the next corner in between a few shrubberies and the concrete wall of a bathroom. His hands are shaking. But it still feels warm from where Jonah held him.

He takes a deep breath again and stands up, determined. He will congratulate Nicholas for singing the most heart-wrenching rendition of ‘I See the Light’. He will joke with Jonah, because he needs to be a better friend, about how Nicholas is such a fantastic performer. He will have dinner with his two roommates and enjoy their last night in Disney before they go back to Boston and back to their real lives tomorrow. Then he will look back at this trip and pat himself on the back for giving them all such a great summer getaway before classes start again.

Elliot pushes past people standing around and waiting for the fireworks to start. He doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten until he’s staring at the sea of people and searching desperately for Nicholas and Jonah. When he sees a flash of khaki standing taller than everyone else, Elliot smiles and lets himself be led by Nicholas’ bucket hat.

He halts when he sees them, his stomach dropping suddenly to his feet.

When Elliot was twelve, his dad had built him a tree house to play in, and he loved it, he moved most of his toys and books and board games in that tree house. Then one summer afternoon, one of the wooden planks gave way under his feet — something about how it was swollen with moisture from the summer storm the week before — and Elliot had fallen to the ground on his side.

And he remembers his mom and dad frantically picking him up and rushing him to hospital and asking where it hurts, where does it hurt, Elliot?

At that time, Elliot had been too dumb with shock and pain to answer properly. _It just hurts_ , he kept saying repeatedly, cradling his broken arm to himself. _It hurts._

It’s such a vivid memory. And it’s funny how Elliot feels that same numb pain now.

Jonah and Nicholas are in a whole different world, it’s clear. Elliot can’t see Nicholas’ face properly because of the stupid hat, but his head is bent down close to Jonah’s. But they’re not kissing, obviously, because Jonah is saying something fervently to Nicholas, his eyes darkly familiar, while he keeps one hand at the nape of Nicholas’ neck, just under the hat. Jonah’s other hand is intertwined with Nicholas’.

And Elliot doesn’t know what to think, except that it feels like the wooden planks giving way under him again. 

Then the fireworks start shooting up the sky, and they both look up and see Elliot staring stupidly at them from a few feet away. And he keeps standing there as they rush towards him. 

“Elliot,” Nicholas says, reaching for his hand.

Elliot flinches back. 

“Elliot,” Jonah says with urgency. “We wanted to talk to you tonight, we wanted to—”

“And you always have to get what you want, right?” Elliot demands. “It doesn’t matter if everything else falls apart or if things change, as long as Jonah fucking Talbot gets what he wants.”

“ _Elliot._ ” Nicholas says stepping in front of Jonah protectively, even as Jonah goes pale, his face openly stricken.

To his horror, Elliot’s eyes start to swell up, his throat feeling constricted and sore, like he’s already been crying for hours. “I’ll see you at the house.”

This time, no one calls after him.

Elliot is in bed staring blankly at the wall when he hears low voices outside the closed door. It goes on for a while, interspersed with indistinguishable noises every now and then. They’re probably deciding how to get Nicholas’ backpack from the room without having to face Elliot.

Then someone knocks twice before the door creaks open. “Elliot,” Nicholas sighs.

Elliot turns his head reluctantly. Nicholas isn’t wearing the bucket hat anymore, and his eyes are red rimmed. Jonah is standing by the door’s entrance, and he’s changed into a shirt and jeans now. 

“I’m sorry,” Jonah says quietly.

Elliot hasn’t cried, even on the way back to the Airbnb while thinking how stupid he’d been. But his eyes feel swollen again, and now he’s aching to apologize too, to say he never meant what he said, that he’s sorry for ruining everything. 

But he can’t, he can’t say the words, so Elliot avoids Jonah’s face by looking down at the balled up sheets in his fists.

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was pushing for what I wanted,” Jonah continues, his voice carefully modulated. “I suppose I thought… we were all on the same page.

“And it’s not something I think I… or rather _we_ can bring up, until you’re ready to talk about it, Elliot,” Jonah says, audibly taking a deep breath. “Which is why Nicholas and I thought that perhaps it’s best if I clear out for tonight.”

Elliot’s head shoots up. “What?” He blurts out. And it’s only then he sees Jonah’s garment trolley bag and carry-on propped up behind him. “You’re _leaving_?”

Jonah’s expression is completely shuttered, which, Elliot realizes, is such a stark contrast from how open and relatively carefree he’s been this entire trip.

“But,” Elliot says, hating how he sounds so plaintive. “Is Nicholas leaving too?”

“I’m staying here, Elliot,” Nicholas says quietly. 

“So, what, things just go back to normal?” Elliot says, and there’s a shrill edge to his voice now. “You can’t just leave!”

“Elliot,” Jonah says, stepping forward into the room. And the way Jonah is looking at him is familiar and also so terrifying. “Why did you bring us to Disney?”

Elliot swallows. “I… I wanted to go on a trip with my two roommates, my two good friends.”

“Is that the only reason?” Jonah asks softly. 

Elliot looks at Jonah. “Would there be any other reasons?” he shoots back.

Jonah smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “When you figure it out, let me know,” he says. “Then we can talk about what _you_ want.”

Then Jonah turns to Nicholas and leans close to him. Elliot looks away when Nicholas takes Jonah’s hand and tries to tune out what they’re saying to each other.

“Good bye, Elliot,” Jonah says and it sounds like a more final farewell. Then he leaves.

Nicholas walks to Elliot and crouches down by his bedside. “I’ll be back,” Nicholas says. “I’ll just wait for Jonah to get in his Lyft.”

“Nicholas, why is he leaving?” Elliot blurts unthinkingly. “If he really wanted to talk—”

“Because I told him to go,” Nicholas answers, looking down at Elliot’s fists. “Jonah wants to fix things. More than anything. But you’re not ready, Elliot. So I told him to wait.”

Elliot’s breath hitches, and his heart feels like it’s being squeezed. “Nicholas,” he chokes out.

Nicholas sighs again, and it’s a shuddering exhale. “I’ll be back,” he repeats, placing his hand lightly over Elliot’s curled fingers, before getting up and leaving.

Elliot pulls his knees close to his chest and rakes his fingers through his hair, feeling a knot of regret, anger, and guilt at the bottom of his stomach. He wants to call after Jonah and Nicholas, but he doesn’t know what to say. He still doesn’t even know how things have spiraled so completely out of his control.

He hears the door opening and closing outside again, but he’s not surprised when Nicholas doesn’t enter the room. 

_Why did you bring us to Disney?_

Elliot thinks about the warmth and affection in Nicholas’ voice, the lingering weight in Jonah’s eyes, the way they all gravitate towards each other unconsciously — in how they share their food and their space and their _lives_. Elliot shuts his eyes and calls himself all different variations of _idiot_ when he thinks of how conveniently he has slotted Nicholas as “just his best friend” and Jonah as “just his frenemy roommate” in his life. Because it’s so much easier to convince yourself there’s nothing wrong when everything is categorized into tidy boxes. 

Elliot brought them to Disney because he wants to be with them. Because, in the most secret part of his heart, he wanted to see what it’d be like for the three of them to be together. Even as he was consciously doing his best to make sure that nothing has changed and everything stays the same. That they were all, indeed, just good friends who happen to be good roommates. 

Again, Elliot is hit with the sheer overwhelming force of the knowledge that he has been in love with Nicholas _and_ Jonah, all this time. And even as he’s panicking over the fact, Elliot is so _terrified of what to do with it._

He remembers the anguish in Jonah’s face when Elliot had flung his barbs, of how Elliot had done his best to not _see_ what was right in front of him, how Elliot had thoughtlessly pushed aside what Jonah and Nicholas might be feeling over his own need to make sure that everything was exactly as he had pictured it in his head.

It’s clear to Elliot that he doesn’t know the first thing in how to love someone, how to be the right person for _two persons_ , how to still be himself while also being a better partner. 

And what was the point of ruminating on all of this if Nicholas and Jonah don’t feel the same way anymore?

Elliot blinks when he hears a soft knock on the door. He takes in the soft dawn light painting the walls purple and pink, and sees Nicholas by the doorway, his hair and shirt rumpled, while holding a steaming bowl. It smells familiar, a mouthwatering mix of soy sauce and honey, and his stomach grumbles, reminding him he hasn’t eaten since they had lunch at the diner. When Nicholas hands him the bowl of stir fry, Elliot blankly looks down at it on his lap. 

“Did… Jonah make this?” Elliot asks thickly.

“We did,” Nicholas answers quietly. “Yesterday morning. We were planning to just reheat it for dinner before we...”

Elliot shakes his head and tries to give it back. “I can’t,” he says. “I can’t, Nicholas.”

“I can literally hear your stomach growling, Elliot,” Nicholas says gently but firmly. “Just take a few bites, then go to bed.”

Elliot blindly takes the spoon and and shoves a scoop in his mouth. He stares at the colorful bowl of rice as it becomes more blurry with each bite.

“How does it taste?” Nicholas asks.

Elliot blinks furiously. “You know it’s perfect,” he mutters.

Nicholas takes one of Elliot’s fists in his hand. “Don’t you think it needs more paprika?” He asks softly.

For some reason, that is what untwists the valve. Elliot’s eyes just start tearing up, and then he is sobbing uncontrollably, his chest wracked with horrible uneven breaths. Nicholas puts Elliot’s bowl down and takes Elliot in his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” Elliot sobs. “Nicholas, _I’m so sorry_. I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of all this and making you choose, I’m sorry for ruining our trip, I’m sorry for hurting Jonah, I’m sorry, Nicholas.”

Nicholas stays quiet, just holds him up, his arms strong around Elliot, even as Elliot feels the skin of his neck getting damp from where Nicholas has tucked his face.

“But the truth of all this is,” Elliot tells him, his voice clogged and pathetic. “I don’t know how to deserve either of you. Because you and Jonah deserve the world and more.”

Nicholas pulls back, his eyes red. “But do you want me and Jonah?” Nicholas asks quietly. And the hush in his voice is devastating. “Do you want to be with us in that way?”

Elliot has never been so aware of the physical distance between him and Nicholas until now. He’s aching to go back in Nicholas’ arms, for the both of them to hold each other together. “Yes,” Elliot confesses, the word vulnerable in the naked silence.

Nicholas takes in a shaky breath. “Then don’t you think we all need to work to deserve each other?” Nicholas asks, gently covering Elliot’s cold hands in his. “It’s not just your burden to bear, Elliot.”

Elliot stares at him, his heart beating furiously. Nicholas’ shoulders are hunched, like he’s expecting Elliot to lash out at him, too. And knowing how Nicholas absolutely hates confrontations of any kind, Elliot feels a wave of emotion, of love and adoration, at how brave Nicholas is being, how he’s trying to have a serious conversation with Elliot without Jonah’s help, how he’s being so openly sincere with his words. 

“This isn’t High School Musical, Nicholas,” Elliot is compelled to say, feeling an ache in his chest. “We can’t have both.”

“Someone once said we can, if we work hard enough for it,” Nicholas says slowly. “And I tend to believe that someone, because he’s never let me down before.”

Elliot swallows, thinking of how shuttered Jonah had looked before leaving. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?” he asks Nicholas. 

Nicholas smiles crookedly, squeezing Elliot’s hands in his. “I think Jonah would forgive you anything, so long as he knew you were sincere,” Nicholas answers. 

They’re both quiet for a moment, and Elliot is almost sure that Nicholas is also thinking about the same person. 

Jonah’s quiet excitement about being on this trip; his teasing jibes at both Nicholas and Elliot; his cryptic remarks; his attempts to set up long breakfasts and brunches like they were back in the Eggplant; _the debates about all the Disney songs and movies._

Elliot searches Nicholas’ face, the serious furrow between his brow, the wry quirk of his mouth, the flush on his cheeks. “I’m sorry again,” Elliot says to their hands. “For making you choose who to leave and who to stay with.”

He hears Nicholas take in a shuddering breath. “Just please don’t make me do that again.”

Elliot raises his head and looks at Nicholas squarely in the eye. “I won’t,” he promises, lifting Nicholas’ hand and pressing a kiss to his fingers.

The flush deepens on Nicholas’ cheeks. “Come here,” Nicholas says, opening his arms.

Elliot scrambles to get on Nicholas’ lap and winds his arms around Nicholas’ neck. Elliot closes his eyes and tucks his face against the crook of Nicholas’ shoulder. He takes a deep breath. And another. 

He takes in the weight of Nicholas’ hands against his back, the warmth of his breath against Elliot’s temple, and the constant safety and love Elliot feels in Nicholas’ arms; and he tells himself to never, ever take this for granted again.

“So,” Elliot says unevenly. “Do you think we can catch ourselves a sea captain?”

Nicholas pulls back and laces their fingers together. When Nicholas smiles, it’s brighter than the morning sun. “Between you and me, definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to May for helping me sharpen the Frozen music debate/argument! All the films, plays, and musicals mentioned were researched via wiki (I know, I know, I'm sorry). Except for HSM. That was personal. haha.


	4. Day 3: Jonah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story has been a journey, and I couldn't have finished it without the amazing friends I have for cheering me along the way. Special thanks to May and Aja, for inspiring me always with their detailed, intricate headcanons about our favorite Shenanigang. Special thanks also to Meg, who patiently listened to me yell about a fandom she doesn't even go to, and reminded me to ride out the "emo momentum" that is Jonah's POV.
> 
> There is also a playlist for [Day 1-3 in Disney](http://open.spotify.com/user/0ozkh89h95wqd4zsachspl2r8/playlist/1Apwj7eO7HNK0d60FRGpGt), should you wish to reread the entire thing with background music. 8D
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has patiently waited for this chapter.

Jonah can’t say he remembers much of the Lyft ride going to his motel. His driver — "Call me Rob!"— is talking to him about the weather. But in his mind, Jonah is still in that room where Elliot is confused and hunched in on himself and Nicholas is quiet and heartbroken.

At times, Jonah catches himself looking at his phone mid-conversation with Rob. The tic is oddly familiar, like an old shirt he’d grown out of, even though Jonah rarely ever checks his phone while in the company of other people. 

It’s only when Rob jovially asks him, “Expecting a call?” that Jonah finally understands in cold realization.

“No,” Jonah says, his voice even and light. He tucks his phone inside the pocket of his jacket and resolves not to look at it again.

When Jonah was 16, he had the latest, most popular phone in school. Everyone was envious of the sleek curves of his RIM BlackBerry, how slim and compact it was. There was a certain point where, despite how well Jonah took care of his phone, the dark titanium paint had chipped off from the keyboard, with how much Jonah had used it. 

He doesn’t remember much from the day he and his family severed ties. But he remembers bringing that phone with him when he left. He remembers constantly checking the screen and waiting for someone to send a message. It was only when Jonah finally caved and tried to call his sister that he found out his phone line had been cut.

Thankfully the BlackBerry still bought for quite a sum when Jonah sold it, despite how well-loved it was.

It’s still dark by the time they reach the motel, the sky a deep, prussian blue. “Have a great day,” Rob tells him as Jonah gets off the car.

Jonah smiles. “Thank you. Drive safe.”

The check-in is a quick and easy process, the receptionist doesn’t even bat an eyelash when Jonah informs her that he’s checking out later in the afternoon. Jonah’s already bracing himself for the ensuing tension and awkwardness of the three of them being on a flight together, but he resolves to think about that later, after he’s regained equilibrium. 

Jonah toes off his shoes by the door, and takes the sundries from his pockets before slinging his jacket over the chair. The phone he sets on the side table without another glance. He leans back against the headboard, the mattress thin and worn under him, and focuses on the two things he had appropriated from Nicholas. 

The pack is crumpled and worn, with only two sticks left inside. The lighter, on the other hand, is carefully polished and clean. If Jonah didn’t know it was more than three years old, he’d think that the lighter was brand new. Jonah thumbs the raised ridges, from the jaunty black bow tie and the tuxedo lapels at the sides of the lighter. It was a unique novelty lighter, in the sense that there was only one like it in the entire city of Boston; he and Elliot had made sure of that. 

Jonah hasn’t had a cigarette in four years. But lighting the stick and taking that first hit is easy, like muscle memory. Jonah tips his head back and exhales.

The smoke is a familiar blend of tobacco and menthol, it’s a rush to his senses, from the taste to the scent, both soothing and not. If he closes his eyes, it’s almost as if Nicholas were here, right beside him. Like it were any other night, where Jonah would follow Nicholas out of the Eggplant during his smoke breaks.

And Jonah’s not sure which is worse: to close his eyes and imagine or to keep them open and see the cigarette tremble in his hand.

Jonah shakes his head and laughs softly at himself, and the sound echoes in the empty room, nothing but the hum of electricity answering back. He stretches his hand to the side table and taps his cigarette over the ashtray, watching the ashes fall slowly while embers flicker and fade out.

He’s being maudlin, but Jonah has a few hours to kill before going home. Might as well wring everything out and hang it to dry before folding it all back in again.

Jonah doesn’t know how Elliot can still manage to blindside him in the most unexpected ways after all these years. It's most likely because Jonah presumed, and expected, and hoped too much. And Jonah can be honest enough with himself to acknowledge that maybe it's also because he got carried away, willfully forgetting how Elliot can surprise him. He’d been reckless after Nicholas had said _yes_. 

Ever since Elliot had announced their trip to Disney World, Jonah had been filled with barely suppressed anticipation. He had thought that, surely this shenanigan was just a ploy for the three of them to be alone together. He had thought that, surely the real reason they were going to Disney was because Elliot finally realized that the three of them would be so good together.

Jonah takes another hit, his mind replaying the moment Nicholas wrapped his arms around Jonah outside the house. 

They fit together, despite the slight height difference. Nicholas curled himself close to Jonah while he enveloped Nicholas in his arms. Nicholas felt strong and solid, the warmth of his skin emanating from his shirt and into Jonah’s hands. And Jonah felt desperate and greedy, so he had pressed his lips to the bare skin of Nicholas’ neck, his mouth closed and chaste. 

Nicholas had looked up from where he had tucked his head into Jonah’s shoulder, his eyes red-rimmed and stricken. A look Jonah thought he’d never see on Nicholas’ face.

 _It’s going to be okay_. An assurance said with all the confidence and conviction of a consummate actor. _We’ll be okay, Nicholas._ Jonah stole another touch and thumbed Nicholas’ cheek. 

Nicholas caught his hand before Jonah can withdraw. _We’ll come get you._ It was a fierce promise said with every ounce of Nicholas’ bright hope and optimism. 

Jonah nodded, for Nicholas’ sake. _I’ll see you guys at the airport_ , he said in lieu of a goodbye.

Jonah stubs out the cigarette into the ashtray, the last traces of smoke still wafting in the air. He can tell himself that at least now he has his answer, as much as Elliot’s barbed meltdown can be an answer. But that isn’t much consolation in the face of everything else he'll most likely lose. 

It’s hard to believe that just a few hours ago, the three of them had been sprawled out on the couch, guards down and limbs tangled, talking about breakfast even though they had just finished _eating_ breakfast, which was so typical in their household that Jonah feels a little gut punched just thinking about never having that again.

Then he remembers Elliot’s look of hurt and betrayal while fireworks shot across the sky, and it makes Jonah take the last stick out from the pack. His hand is steadier now, at least. 

He wonders how Elliot will come out of this, if he’ll have convinced himself that this _was_ just a summer vacation between three friends and nothing more. Jonah thinks of the budding thing between him and Nicholas — the way Nicholas’ eyes go liquid whenever he catches Jonah staring, the way their fingers linger whenever they’re cooking together, the way Nicholas bites his lip and clearly just aching to be kissed — and he knows nothing will come of it, not now. Not now, when Elliot will need his best friend more than ever.

Jonah _wants_ to hope that they will both choose him, instead of just each other. But he’s not holding his breath. 

He removes the cigarette from his mouth, inhaling the smoke and holding it for a moment deep in his lungs before exhaling slowly. He savors the buzz from the nicotine as best as he can, but it’s really not a big enough distraction from the whirlwind of his thoughts. And then another realization hits Jonah like a cold wave, and it makes him laugh again, the sound loud and sharp this time.

At least they accomplished the original purpose of this trip. They proved that Disney isn’t the happiest place on Earth, after all.

Jonah raises his hand against the stream of light rising on his jeans, staring at the dust motes dancing in the air made visible by the light. He’s a little surprised, and greatly relieved, that it’s already dawn, that the dark hours of the night have passed. He turns to the window, and sure enough, the motel parking lot is slowly being awash in light, the sky changing from hues of blue and purple into a gradient of yellow and pink.

Jonah gets up from the bed, dismissing the bone-deep heaviness and weariness he feels, and walks towards the window. He tips his head up and closes his eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun on his face. 

When Jonah was in high school, he had loved sleeping in during the weekends. But he’s grown to appreciate the break of dawn every day, the ceaseless passage of time, that everything must move on and forward, eventually.

There is a blinding moment when Jonah opens his eyes against the light of the sun. He lifts a hand over his brow and blinks back dry eyes until everything goes back in focus again. Then he watches the sky turn into a cheery blue from the last two days.

Jonah looks away from the window when he hears a knock. He takes one last drag of the cigarette before stubbing it on the tray, then makes his way to the door.

When Elliot had rebuked him last night, Jonah had the most visceral feeling in his chest. It was a deeply irrational response, but it genuinely felt as if someone had ripped his heart out, leaving him breathless and numb with pain and shock.

What Jonah feels now, while staring at Elliot and Nicholas at the entrance of his door, is very akin to that moment, when everyone around them was screaming for more fireworks, more princes and princesses, more happily ever afters.

There are bruises under Elliot’s eyes, his hair wild like he’s been running his fingers through it. Elliot’s not even wearing a dress shirt and trousers; he’s in a plain shirt and _jeans._ Whatever they’ve come here to tell him must be serious, Jonah thinks to himself with morbid amusement. 

Meanwhile, Nicholas looks calm and solid and strong, his eyes still red-rimmed, but no longer anguished. He’s wearing the bucket hat Elliot gave him, and Jonah doesn’t know what that means. But there’s a familiar set to his jaw, and Jonah knows Nicholas well enough that whatever decision he — or both of them — has made, he’ll see it through with quiet determination.

Then Jonah notices that while Elliot is carrying a container in one hand, his other hand is wrapped around Nicholas’, their fingers laced together and tucked in the space between their bodies.

 _Oh._ And a part of Jonah, the very quiet voice of his lizard brain, is selfishly glad that he kept that Walden photo for himself after all. He leans against the door frame, easy and casual as a summer breeze, to hide how his knees have suddenly gone weak. 

Then Elliot lets go of Nicholas and holds out the container to Jonah with outstretched hands. “Jonah,” he says in a tremulous voice. “I’m so sorry.”

Jonah wants to say _it’s okay_ , but he’s not entirely sure that even he could pull off that lie. So instead he takes Elliot’s offering, careful that their fingers don’t touch. The bowl-shaped Tupperware is still warm, and when Jonah looks down at the clear cover, he sees the stir fry he and Nicholas had made yesterday morning. 

Always with the surprises, Elliot is. 

“We added paprika,” Nicholas murmurs, while Elliot stares at Jonah. 

Jonah fights against the sudden sting in his eyes, his fingers tight around the bowl. “Come in,” he says instead, and steps aside so they can enter.

He sees Elliot and Nicholas hesitate on where to sit in the room, so Jonah takes the lead and settles down on the edge of the bed. He gestures for them to take the two chairs tucked against the table. But because Elliot isn’t done throwing him off, Elliot starts pulling the chairs nearer to Jonah, until they’re all facing each other in a semblance of a circle.

“Have you eaten yet?” Nicholas asks softly, removing his hat and placing it on his lap.

Jonah stares at the tufts of hair standing on Nicholas’ head, wishing he could smooth it down. “I’m fine, thank you,” he says politely. 

“You should eat the stir fry,” Elliot blurts, before going back to fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Jonah stares at the two of them. He knows better than to expect them to give him a straightforward answer on what, exactly, they’re doing here but he can’t help but wonder where this convoluted conversation will lead this time. 

So he opens the container, and the familiar aroma of rice instantly reminds him that he hasn’t had a meal since yesterday. There’s a sprinkling of red spice on top, another pop of color that makes Jonah’s mouth water.

Jonah blinks in bemusement when Nicholas hands him unused chopsticks. He takes it wordlessly and looks back down at the bowl, acutely aware that two pairs of eyes are watching him. 

He eats the rice, and finishes it in a few minutes. He’s hungrier than he thought he was, and the bite of paprika, Jonah notes with amusement, just adds that extra kick. 

“Thank you,” Jonah says, when Nicholas gives him a water bottle. He places the empty bowl on the floor and straightens up in his seat. “You didn’t have to come all this way to bring me food,” he adds, hoping that it moves along whatever Elliot and Nicholas have planned for this tête-à-tête.

His lips quirk up when Nicholas gives him a look that says _you know we’re not just here for the food_. And then — “I wanted to apologize,” Elliot says quietly, his eyes luminous. 

“Jonah,” Elliot continues in an even softer tone, proving to Jonah that nothing was impossible. Elliot is sitting with his back facing the window, and the sun is caressing the curve of his face, the mess of his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

In all the years they’ve known each other, he and Elliot have had countless moments wherein they’d look at each other in perfect understanding. And Jonah would like to think he’s gotten better with dealing with that, the startling yet constant reminder that there is a person, there is _Elliot_ , who is so wholly on the same wavelength as he is. 

But despite everything, he is always caught off guard anyway whenever Elliot grants Jonah his complete and full attention. And right now, Jonah is ensnared by Elliot’s eyes, an open book and a moving train of so many passing emotions that Jonah can barely keep up.

“I’m sorry I said you only cared about getting what you wanted.” Elliot takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Because that’s not even remotely true. You’re not like that at all, and the reason I said it was because I wanted to hurt you and I’m sorry, Jonah.”

There’s no point in pretending Jonah isn’t utterly disarmed, with the sincerity in Elliot’s voice and the weight of Nicholas’ gaze. “I’m sorry too,” Jonah says, and the words aren’t as difficult to say as they were last night. “For… presuming, and for ending our trip this way.”

Elliot shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” he says, biting his lip. “You said when I figured out why I brought us to Disney… when I figured out what I want, you said we should talk.”

Jonah considers him. “And you figured it out,” Jonah says slowly and as gently as possible. “In less than 24 hours?”

He doesn’t mean to be cruel; he just wants things to be as clear as possible, and he doesn’t want to read between the lines and get it wrong again, not for this.

He feels something twist in his chest when Elliot tips his chin up, that bit of fire momentarily banishing the uncertainty and hesitation in Elliot’s face. “Because I knew what I wanted all along,” Elliot answers, his fingers tangled into knots on his lap. “I just didn’t want to _know_ that I knew.”

It’s amazing how Jonah understood that obfuscation. Even at the best of times, Jonah has trouble keeping his feelings contained where Elliot is concerned. And he knows he’s just staring blatantly at Elliot now, but it can’t be helped. 

Then Nicholas reaches out, his fingers tentatively touching the taut knuckles of Jonah’s clenched fists, and Jonah’s breath hitches without his volition. 

_We’ll come get you,_ says Nicholas’ look, and Jonah is at a loss for words again.

He glances at Elliot to see his reaction, and his throat goes dry at the flushed, _longing_ look on his face. “And,” Jonah says, not even daring to hope. “What is it you’ve wanted all along?”

At this, Elliot smiles, a small, tentative curl of his lips. “To make you and Nicholas happy,” Elliot says, the revelation wrapped in the softest tone, like confession. “To have languid brunches with both of you. To hold your hand and Nicholas’ under my teal afghan while we’re watching trashy television. To sing ‘Happiness’ and have you know what it means. For you and me to make more handmade flashcards for Nicholas and help him review late at night. To wake up to both of you, beside me and happy — for as long as we want, if not for always.”

The sting returns to Jonah’s eyes, and this time it’s accompanied by a heavy ache in his throat, which is something that happens whenever Jonah’s trying to swallow back the urge to cry. And Jonah thinks he would have managed, if Nicholas had not knelt forward in front of him and cradled his face in his hands.

Nicholas pulls his face down gently and closes the distance between them, kissing the wet corners of Jonah’s eyes. “You are important,” Nicholas says, and punctuates this with another press of his lips to the corner of Jonah’s mouth.

Jonah closes his eyes and places his fingers over Nicholas’ wrists, and pulls and pulls and pulls until Nicholas is in his arms, and it feels like gasping for air after being underwater for too long. His face is tucked against the curve of Nicholas’ shoulder, and he wills himself to take deep, even breaths, even as he inhales the familiar scent of Nicholas’ skin. Nicholas is whispering words against the side of his temple, _it’s okay, Jonah, it’s okay,_ moving his hand in broad, soothing strokes across his back. Jonah takes a moment, in knowing the line of Nicholas’ neck and the sharpness of his elbows and hips and knees just by how close they are to each other, then he opens his eyes.

He leans back, just enough to see the dampness in Nicholas’ eyes too. Jonah thumbs the corners, the way Nicholas did, feeling like he’s in a dream. “Thank you,” he says hoarsely, mesmerized by the open warmth in Nicholas’ face. He feels that familiar, twisting ache when Nicholas smiles, so he places a chaste kiss to Nicholas’ lips.

He nuzzles his nose against Nicholas’ cheek, jotting to memory the way Nicholas’ breath hitches at the touch. It’s something to explore for later. But at the moment, it’s been entirely too quiet. He looks up, and sees Elliot watching them. Still with that wanting, longing look, but this time with hesitation again.

“Elliot,” he murmurs, and Nicholas untangles his arms from around Jonah to look at Elliot, too. 

Elliot takes a deep breath and walks towards them, then stops in front of Jonah and Nicholas. Jonah looks up at him, at the wanting in Elliot’s eyes, and reaches out slowly, trying to telegraph his movements as clearly as possible.

Jonah watches Elliot wets his lip as their fingertips touch lightly against each other. “Elliot,” Jonah says again, entranced by the flushed look on Elliot’s face. “Are you sure?”

Elliot nods profusely, still blushing but not speaking, so Jonah goes on. “We can take this as slowly as you need to, as we all need to. We can… make an arrangement, even, where you can have time alone with Nicholas and —”

“I want you both,” Elliot blurts, and blushes more deeply, looking mortified. Beside Jonah, Nicholas makes a small sound.

Jonah curls his fingers around Elliot’s, and tugs him down to the bed gently, until Elliot is sitting down in the space between him and Nicholas, like always. 

And then Jonah finds himself in the heady position of having both their eyes on him, Nicholas waiting with anticipation while Elliot stares up with parted lips at Jonah.

He indulges himself for a moment, and brushes that one, errant curl that’s forever falling over Elliot’s forehead. He watches Elliot’s eyes go impossibly wider, and leans forward slowly, until he can feel Elliot’s breath against his skin. Then he tucks his fingers under the point of Elliot’s chin and tilts his face up, silently filled with wonder when Elliot lets him, pliant and easy. 

“Jonah” Elliot whispers, his hands pressing lightly against Jonah’s sides. “I’m so sorry for making you and Nicholas wait.”

Jonah huffs out a laugh. He could say something blithe, or teasing, or easy in response. “You and Nicholas will always be worth the wait,” he says instead.

They don’t close their eyes, both of them just watching each other, as Jonah moves closer. Then Elliot exhales sharply when Jonah presses a gentle kiss on the line of his cheekbone, relishing the warmth of Elliot’s skin under his lips. Jonah is dimly aware of Elliot’s sharp nails digging into the skin of his waist through his shirt, but he takes no heed of that.

He brushes his nose against Elliot’s skin, similar to how he nuzzled into Nicholas, and lets his lips curl up when Elliot shivers. 

“Jonah.” Elliot’s voice is breathless and throaty, and Jonah is completely blown away by how Elliot looks. “It’s okay.” 

“What’s okay?” Jonah can’t help but murmur back. 

Elliot licks his lips and glances behind him, and when Jonah turns, he sees Nicholas staring at them with a dark, heated gaze.

“If you kiss Nicholas first,” Elliot continues, still breathless. 

Then tension breaks, only slightly, when Nicholas bursts out laughing. “Elliot,” he says, smiling and shaking his head. “It’s not a competition, it’s fine.”

“I know,” Elliot assures, absently petting Jonah’s waist with his hands, claws momentarily put away. “But… it seems right. It seems fitting, that Nicholas should get the first kiss.”

Jonah could argue that what he and Elliot have been doing _is_ kissing. But he knows what Elliot means. And then he sees a familiar look overtake Nicholas’ face. Jonah intimately knows this look — this soft, helpless, and adoring look. He’s seen it on both Nicholas’ and Elliot’s faces countless, thousands of times over the years, whenever they thought the other wasn’t looking. 

So Jonah smiles, and kisses Elliot’s forehead. “You’re absolutely right. Nicholas deserves all the first kisses, after everything we’ve put him through,” Jonah says gently. “After you, Prince Convince.” 

“ _Jonah_.” Nicholas’ voice puts to words every aching feeling in his face.

Elliot smiles up at Jonah shyly, from beneath the curl of his lashes. Then Elliot leans up and kisses the left corner of Jonah’s mouth, before turning towards Nicholas.

Something catches in Jonah’s throat at the easy way Elliot climbs Nicholas’ lap and takes Nicholas’ face in his hands. And Jonah feels a slow, silken tendril of lust at the picture they make; Elliot’s sharp elbows digging into Nicholas’ broad shoulders, slim wrists wrapped around the waves of Nicholas’ hair; how Nicholas has his long, elegant fingers spanned around the curve of Elliot’s waist; the way the light sharpens all the angles in Elliot’s face, even as the shadows delineate Nicholas’ profile. 

Jonah doesn’t catch the words Elliot murmurs against Nicholas’ cheek. But it makes Nicholas look at Jonah with pupil-blown eyes, before Elliot swoops down and slots their lips together, the sound slick and wet with promise. Jonah curls his fingers into fists, aching to touch them, but waits and drinks in the sight.

When they pull apart, they’re both shuddering and gasping in each other’s arms, Elliot’s fingers twisted into Nicholas’ hair and his knees and legs locked tight around Nicholas’ hips. Nicholas is perfectly undone, his forehead against Elliot’s collarbone, his eyes still closed, cheeks still flushed, and his hands under Elliot’s flimsy shirt.

And at that moment, Jonah wants nothing more than to peel off all their clothes and take them apart slowly, inch by inch, and know all the secrets of their skin, the confessions to be spilt by their bodies. But Jonah takes a quiet, fortifying breath then smiles when Elliot and Nicholas turn to him.

Elliot climbs off of Nicholas’ lap, the movement graceful and lithe. “This isn’t a competition, but if it were, I’d win,” Elliot says smugly to Jonah, looking infuriatingly hot.

Jonah raises an eyebrow and brushes his thumb against Elliot’s wet bottom lip. “But _I_ haven’t kissed you yet, sweetheart,” Jonah reminds him gently, enjoying Elliot’s dazed look.

“Still my turn, though, right?” Nicholas interjects, visibly making himself comfortable by leaning against the headboard and stretching his legs on the bed. 

Jonah pecks Elliot’s parted mouth then winks at Nicholas. “Yes, darling, still your turn,” he says, and moves closer to Nicholas.

Nicholas beams when Jonah sits down beside him. “Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hi,” Jonah murmurs, smiling back.

“Can I just,” Nicholas bites his lip, before he raises his hand to press the pad of his thumb into the corner of Jonah’s mouth. “Can I kiss you here?”

Jonah wraps his hand around Nicholas’ wrist. “You can kiss me anywhere,” Jonah says quietly. He can almost feel the curve of Nicholas’ thumb against his lips, that’s how big his smile is. “Though I’ve noticed you and Elliot seem to have a particular preoccupation with this part of my face.”

Elliot makes an indignant noise from behind Jonah while Nicholas laughs. 

Nicholas bumps shoulders with him, placing his hand over Jonah’s thigh. “It’s your dimple,” he answers, pressing his thumb in for emphasis.

Jonah grimaces. “I know,” he admits. “I have no control over it whatsoever.”

When he was younger, Jonah had practiced smiling in different ways, for different occasions and situations, in the mirror. It’s served him well over the years. And for the most part, he could keep the indentation away from his face. 

“Good,” Nicholas says firmly and leans forward, removing his thumb and finally kissing said dimple.

Nicholas kisses it once, then twice, the warmth of his mouth like a benediction. On the third time, Jonah tilts his head to the side, and catches Nicholas’ lips with his. When Nicholas’ mouth parts in surprise, like he honestly didn’t expect Jonah to do that the first chance he got, Jonah cups Nicholas’ jaw and coaxes his way inside Nicholas’ lips with his tongue. 

Nicholas tastes warm and soft and smoky, and it reminds Jonah of _home_.

Nicholas’ hand goes tight on Jonah’s thigh when Jonah sucks on Nicholas’ tongue. And when Nicholas makes a sound of pure want, Jonah has to place his other hand over Nicholas’ nape to keep him still. Jonah lets Nicholas take a breath, dotting kisses over his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones. 

It’s completely overwhelming, in addition to the fact that Jonah can feel Elliot’s eyes on them.

“What about chicken confit?” Nicholas murmurs against Jonah’s jawline, his mouth lush and possessive on Jonah’s skin.

Jonah smiles helplessly, and he can’t help but close his eyes when Nicholas makes another sound and kisses his dimple again. “I can make fried chicken and waffles instead,” Jonah whispers back, turning his head to capture Nicholas’ laughter in a kiss.

Nicholas brushes his nose against Jonah’s temple, then lifts his head. “Elliot, come up here,” Nicholas says.

“We won’t fit,” Elliot demurs, even as he lets Nicholas drag him forward.

Jonah feels like his heart is about to burst, the way Elliot squirms and settles in the small space between the two of them, his face a combination of mortification and happiness while Nicholas puts his arm around Elliot’s shoulder.

Once Elliot is satisfied with the bed arrangements, adjusting limbs and pillows into place, he looks up at Jonah, somehow managing to look coquettish and uncertain at the same time. “So does this mean it’s my turn?” He asks, and licks his bottom lip to complete the invitation.

Nicholas is laughing into Elliot’s hair even as Jonah smiles. “Yes, Your Highness,” Jonah says, and leans down to kiss the little furrow forming between his brows.

When Elliot opens his mouth — to complain about the slow development of the ongoing proceedings, no doubt — Jonah silences the impending protests with a kiss on his lips. 

In comparison to Nicholas, Elliot is tart and sweet, mouth mostly closed and just slightly parted enough to let out tiny little gasps whenever Jonah brushes their lips together. Nicholas is silent behind them, but his arm is still around Elliot’s shoulder, his fingers crossing the distance to trace tight, winding circles into the skin of Jonah’s neck.

When Jonah nips the pout of Elliot’s lip, Elliot shivers and comes to life, winding his arms around Jonah’s neck, his legs restlessly tangling against Jonah’s. Jonah shudders when Elliot digs his claws into his skin, and their kisses turn into a devouring, biting mess that unravels Jonah.

When they break apart, they’re both breathing heavily, Elliot’s head tucked into Jonah’s throat while Jonah has one hand over Elliot’s nape, the other clasped around Nicholas’ fingers.

The motel room is completely awash in light now, the shadows kept at bay. The hum of the room isn’t as loud now, not with the sound of their breaths, the buoyant beat of Jonah’s heart.

Elliot peers up at Jonah. “So what now?” He asks, his fingers curling into Jonah’s hair. 

Jonah stares at them. Nicholas has his chin tucked on top of Elliot’s head, clearly also waiting for Jonah’s response. Jonah stares at the loose set of their shoulders, the warm flush still on their cheeks, the brightness in their gaze. 

And then he thinks of _for as long as we want, if not for always._

Jonah brushes his thumb gently over the dark circles under Elliot’s eyes. “Now,” he says softly, watching Elliot’s lashes flutter close. “We sleep.”

At that, Elliot opens his eyes to stare at Jonah incredulously, and Nicholas chuckles into the crown of Elliot’s head. 

Elliot gestures extravagantly at the way their limbs are intertwined. “Do you really want to sleep now?” He demands.

“Yes,” Jonah says easily, because now he knows they have all the time in the world to learn each other in all the ways that matter. “I don’t know about you, but I did not sleep a wink last night.”

Nicholas hums, looping an arm around Elliot’s waist. “We do have a few hours before we need to check in at the airport,” he points out, already shuffling down from leaning against the headboard until he’s lying down on the bed.

Elliot turns towards Nicholas. “You’re _agreeing_ with him?” He says, sounding betrayed. 

Jonah bites his lip when Nicholas closes his eyes and starts tugging Elliot down with him. “Shush,” he mumbles, arm still wrapped around Elliot.

Elliot stares down at Nicholas, looking ridiculously affronted. The expression only intensifies when Jonah fluffs his pillow up and lies down properly as well.

“Fine,” Elliot mutters, curling up between Nicholas and Jonah. “But I’m not _sleeping._ I’m just going to lie here and waste away until we leave.”

Except not even five minutes have passed, and Elliot’s already knocked out cold, his face pressed against Jonah’s shoulder, hand loosely curled around the arm Nicholas has on his waist.

At first, Jonah thinks that maybe Elliot’s pretending, but then he sees the rapid movement of Elliot’s eyes from behind his lids, his lips softly parted. Jonah brushes back Elliot’s curls from his forehead, but it predictably springs back down, the strands soft against Jonah’s fingers. Elliot doesn’t even stir.

“He didn’t sleep the night too,” Nicholas says softly, and Jonah glances up to see Nicholas’ achingly familiar, fond look focused on _him_. 

Jonah reaches out to brush his fingers over Nicholas’ cheek. “I’d wager you didn’t have much rest, either,” he says quietly.

Nicholas makes a dismissive sound. “I dozed for a bit,” he allows, smiling crookedly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Jonah trails his hand down over Nicholas’ waist, until he has both Elliot and Nicholas effectively in his hold. They both hold their breath when Elliot snuffles and rubs his face against Jonah’s shoulder. 

“I already set an alarm for later. You can sleep now,” Jonah says.

Nicholas nods. “In a minute,” he murmurs, smiling.

Jonah studies him. “It’s hard to believe any of this is real, isn’t it?”

Nicholas tilts his head, and this time Nicholas is the one studying him. “Oh, Jonah,” he sighs. “Is that why you can’t sleep?”

He swallows. “Isn’t that why you’re not sleeping right now?” He shoots back.

Nicholas shakes his head. “It’s because I’m so unbelievably, completely happy,” Nicholas answers, every word a shot to Jonah’s heart. “And I promise you that when you wake up, Elliot and I will still be here.” 

Jonah closes his eyes, feeling overwhelmed once again. “I have your lighter. And I finished your cigarettes.”

He feels Nicholas’ foot brush against his ankle under the covers. “I know,” Nicholas says lightly. “I’m taking the lighter back, though.”

“I helped Elliot find it,” Jonah says, then instantly feels chagrined at the outburst. “That is, we—”

“I know,” Nicholas says again, even more softly. “And I love that lighter very much, which is why I’m taking it back.”

Jonah laughs helplessly. “Yes,” he says unevenly. “All right. I apologize.”

Nicholas shakes his head. “No apologies necessary,” he assures. “Now, Jonah. _Sleep._ ”

Jonah tightens his arm around the two of them, letting himself be lulled into sleep by Elliot’s breaths and Nicholas’ anchoring touch, the warmth of their limbs encompassing Jonah. 

Then he closes his eyes. And rests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: what's a happy, we-belong-together jelliot song that elliot loves to sing once he's realized he's madly in love with jonah  
> May and Aja: (sends over a playlist's worth of songs)
> 
> I decided on one of Aja's recommendations, since it fit the scene wherein it was mentioned in this chapter: "Happiness" from Passion, which you can listen to [here](http://open.spotify.com/track/7l0VnkLRSzVukuVU3y4Cej).  
> ETA: I did not know the plot of Passion when I wrote and published this chapter, which is a grievous error on my part I know, BUT LET'S JUST SAY ELLIOT SINGS THIS VERY LOVELY AND HAPPY SONG OUT OF CONTEXT TO THE MUSICAL ahaha 
> 
> The epilogue is coming in a few days, I promise! For now, take a breather and rest (like Jonah) lol.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happily ever beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!

Jane watches from the sidelines, using her cigarette as an excuse from joining in the group’s endeavor of replicating Ancient Greek sculptures with cheese in Blake’s backyard. It’s the first time everyone is finally available for one of Blake’s weekly/monthly parties since summer, so of course they had to come up with an equally extravagant theme and activity for the reunion. 

Blake is stacking cheddar while Kate wields a carving knife in a dangerously expert hold, both of them arguing about the best way to mold the discus of the discobolus. Meanwhile, Hazel and Tim are still sketching Athena while calculating the ideal scale and proportion in relation to the amount of available cheese on hand. Then there’s Evan and Anna, who aren’t even trying, they’re just blatantly eating cheese on the lounge chairs while drinking wine straight from the bottle Jonah had brought.

Thankfully, Jane’s far enough from the pungent competition that she can breathe in the crisp, biting air of the afternoon under the familiar layers of menthol and tobacco. The weather’s been unpredictable and changeable the past few weeks, now that they’re in that strange in-between of seasons, from summer to autumn. 

It had been drizzling the entire morning, but Elliot had been confident that the skies would turn in their favor. And unsurprisingly, he was right. The grass still smells damp, the clouds still touched with gray. But the skies were clear, the faint golden glow of the sunset signalling the end of another day.

Jane takes another hit and studies the trio huddled close together at the other end of backyard. They’re sitting down on a teal blanket over the grass, and as usual, Elliot is in the middle of his two roommates. He’s standing on his knees and gesticulating passionately while speaking, his pink drink sloshing precariously in his hand. Nicholas and Jonah are looking up at Elliot with varying expressions of fondness while drinking their respective drinks of craft beer and red wine. Nicholas is laughing and leaning back on his elbows, his legs outstretched beside Jonah. And Jane notes that Jonah’s free hand is curled around Nicholas’ ankle, his thumb moving back and forth absentmindedly as he argues with Elliot.

There had been nothing but radio silence from the Eggplant trio after the Disney trip, and Jane had been worried that something irreparably wrong had happened during their vacation. Then a few days later, just when Jane had decided to call him even though she absolutely detested phone calls, she and Caroline had received a text from Elliot, asking when they were free for brunch.

It was like pulling teeth, in that it took a few hours and not a few probing questions from both her and Caroline for the story to come out. But by the end of it, Caroline was squealing in delight and Elliot had his red face buried in his hands.

“Well,” Jane had said before leaning back and trying not to look as satisfied as she felt, for Elliot’s sake. “All I can say is thank god for Nicholas. Else you and Jonah would have played out another two acts of dramatique before getting it together.”

“Stop,” Elliot wailed, before gulping down more of his iced coffee.

Caroline reached out and squeezed Elliot’s hand across the table. “But for real, we’re so, so happy for you, Elliot,” she said sincerely, in that effortlessly effervescent way of hers. “I’m so glad you guys worked it out.”

“Oh god, me too,” Elliot blurted, in equal parts mortification and joy. 

Caroline graciously changed the topic after that, talking about her own shenanigans after she flew back home for the summer. Elliot took the lifeline with as much grace as he could, diving into the conversation with questions and appropriately timed reactions to each of Caroline’s punchlines.

And Jane saw how Elliot was valiantly trying his best to listen and pay attention, but sometimes he would get this sudden smile on his face, like a thought had just popped into his head, before he checked his phone screen surreptitiously. 

So as soon as Caroline finished her harrowing tale of climbing her neighbor’s oak tree to get the perfect shot of the entire town, Jane casually said, “Caro, didn’t we have that appointment in an hour?”

Caroline turned to her with a puzzled expression, before seeing Jane’s face, and responding, “Oh. Right. We should get going, I guess?”

Predictably, Elliot was the first to stand and say his goodbyes. Unpredictably, Elliot had hugged her and Caroline with so much heartfelt sincerity that Jane had put her arms around him automatically in response.

They watched him practically skip down the street, before Caroline had sighed and said, “He is so in love.”

Jane made a commiserating sound. She could only imagine what the other two were like back in the Eggplant.

She doesn’t have to imagine now, Jane thinks to herself as she watches the three of them move around each other, like invisible strings stretching taut before being pulled back together again. And the most amusing part is, the only thing that’s changed is how all three of them are just more openly expressive about their feelings for each other. 

Jane pauses from flicking her cigarette when she sees Caroline crawling between two of the manicured bushes, her small digital camera on hand. Jane bites back a smile and walks towards her.

Caroline looks up when Jane carefully sits down on the grass beside her. “Hi,” Caroline beams.

“I’m not giving away your hiding place?” Jane asks.

“It’s fine,” Caroline dismisses, which means, yes, Jane is, but she doesn’t care enough to shoo Jane away.

Jane lets herself smile this time. “And which unsuspecting victim are you trying to photograph this time?”

“Not unsuspecting,” Caroline says, fiddling with her camera settings. “It’s upon Elliot’s request, actually.”

“Really?”

“He wants a candid shot of the three of them, which is pretty challenging in itself since he knows I’m taking a photo,” Caroline says. “But he says I’ll know when to capture _the perfect moment._ ”

Jane glances up at them again, just in time to see Jonah saying something quietly before Nicholas laughs again and kisses Elliot’s cheek. Meanwhile Elliot turns red and parries back at Jonah, poking a finger at his chest, before somehow reaching down to lace their fingers together. Jane sees Jonah’s dimple before he sips from his wine, he and Nicholas exchanging a look of understanding.

“What do you think?” Caroline murmurs.

“Yes,” Jane says without looking away from them, feeling a bewildering combination of happiness, pride, and nostalgia.

Jane hears the click of the shutter, and smiles.  
  


A few days later, Elliot saunters into the Eggplant from his very productive meeting with Wurtzie regarding his upcoming production of the _Iceman Cometh_. He bends down to rub noses with Ian Purrtis in greeting, then goes straight for the kitchen. The smell of green apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg wafts through the air. He can hear the faint sounds of music coming from the speaker in the living room, though he can’t make out the lyrics. It’s most likely another angsty musical theatre ballad since it’s Jonah’s turn tonight.

Then he catches his two ridiculous boyfriends making out against the countertop, and on cue, a slice of pie comically falling from Nicholas’ fork while Jonah cradles his face. Elliot clears his throat, ignoring the heat pooling at the bottom of his stomach for now, and feels a helpless flutter of fondness when they pull apart in a daze.

“And how goes the spiced bourbon apple pie?” Elliot asks archly.

“Really good,” Nicholas says hoarsely, cheeks flushed under smudges of flour.

Jonah laughs softly and pushes a plate with sliced pie towards Elliot. “The filling is a little mushy, I think the apples we got were somewhat overripe. But the flavors are spot-on.” 

Elliot kisses Nicholas in greeting, feeling the swollen softness of his lips, before standing in between them. He takes a bite of the pie, and lets the flavors wash over him. He doesn’t know what Jonah’s talking about, the pie was perfect, as far as he could tell.

But still. “Needs a little bit of paprika,” Elliot informs them, pinching his fingers in demonstration.

Jonah’s smile widens, his dimple appearing. “Of course,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss Elliot.

Jonah’s lips are equally soft and swollen, and Elliot swears he can taste Nicholas on Jonah’s tongue. “How’s that, Prince Convince?” Jonah murmurs against Elliot’s cheek.

Elliot shivers. “Much better,” he says breathlessly.

He feels Nicholas press a kiss to the top of his head. “Welcome home,” Nicholas says quietly.

Elliot closes his eyes and holds onto the both of them.

Home, indeed.


End file.
